


Gravity Rises: The Pines vs. the Prophecy [Episode Three]

by BrightnessWings19



Series: Gravity Rises: Season Three [5]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Gravity Rises (Gravity Falls), Episode Three, Family, Fantasy, Gen, Mystery, Paranormal, Prophecy, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightnessWings19/pseuds/BrightnessWings19
Summary: After two awful days, Pacifica hopes that things can go back to normal. But Mabel's torturous spirit is more violent than ever. With Bill Cipher guiding her, Pacifica works to defeat the Pines and end Mabel's attacks. The Pines ally themselves with the supernatural creatures, but Pacifica won't let that stop her.Nothing will stop her, for Pacifica is determined to defeat Mabel once and for all.
Series: Gravity Rises: Season Three [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1319543
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**WINTER 2013, JUST AFTER THE PORTAL OPENS**

As soon as the gravitational anomalies ended, Andrew felt the change.

The minotaurs were huddled in a system of caves that ran beneath their village, with nothing but glowfly lanterns to light the caverns. They had been here for about eighteen hours; the elders had ordered everyone underground once the gravitational anomalies started. Andrew deferred to the wisdom of the elders (they had, after all, been alive last time this happened), but he was restless, and he knew the other minotaurs were, too. They wanted to get outside and check on their homes and see the extent of the damage from the gravitational anomalies. They wanted to take their calves (or, children) away from the sharp edges of rock that threatened to impale them whenever a new anomaly started. Their calves, too, wanted to get outside and run around.

Andrew’s calves, he knew, were no exception. His wife, Moira, was busy trying to keep them still and check for injuries; Andrew knew that he should help, but he was too dazed. Gravity had returned after the last anomaly; and with it, something had changed. Andrew didn’t know what had changed, exactly, but he felt dizzy and unsettled. He felt as if gravity were still missing, even though it had settled back to normal.

“Andrew? Andrew!”

It was Moira, calling his name. He turned, blinking rapidly, trying to focus on her and not on the strange feeling in his mind. “Yes?”

“Can you hold Timmy?” Moira held their infant son, Timothy, in her arms, and she offered him to Andrew. The baby was cheerful, despite the anomalies, and he held his little arms out to his father. Andrew silently took Timmy from Moira, and she hurried off to go catch their daughter, Naomi, before she could get into any mischief.

Andrew looked down at Timmy, and the strange feeling only increased.

“What is it, Timmy?” he asked softly, shifting the baby closer to his chest. “What’s different? Why do I feel like this?”

In his periphery, he saw a sudden motion. “You feel it too, Papa?”

Andrew turned. His eldest son, Enoch, stared up at him with his round black eyes. “Feel what?” asked Andrew. He sat down next to his son, who was seated on the cave floor. “What exactly do you feel?” His voice was urgent; he wanted to know what was going on.

“I. . . I don’t know how to describe it,” Enoch said. He reached up and grabbed one of his horns, pulling on it as he did when he was agitated. “It’s like. . . like everything sped up.”

Andrew shifted Timmy into one arm, then reached out and gently pulled Enoch’s hand away from his horns. “Do you have this dizzy feeling?” he asked.

Enoch nodded. “I don’t like it. It feels like something huge just happened, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Right,” Andrew said. “I feel like that, too.”

Enoch moved closer to his dad and leaned against his side. “Is it just us?” he asked. “Is it. . . is it something to do with the prophecy?”

Andrew looked around the cave. It was hard to tell if anybody else felt the same way that he and Enoch did, as almost everybody was bound to be dizzy and unsettled after that last gravitational anomaly. Gravity had disappeared, then pulled _upwards_ , then disappeared again. They were just lucky that nobody was, as far as Andrew could tell, badly hurt.

Still, nobody seemed to be affected by whatever had affected Andrew and Enoch. Everybody was up and moving, trying to find their calves or shake off the effects of the anomalies.

“I think it’s just us,” Andrew said. “Which means. . . it probably is the prophecy.”

Andrew had one of the most important jobs in the minotaur village — in the entire forest, really. He was the principal guardian over Bill Cipher’s prison. He knew exactly what Cipher had to do to escape from this dimension, and he was the one in charge of preventing that. Enoch, as the eldest son, was apprenticed to Andrew; someday, he would take over as the guardian. If Andrew and Enoch felt something magical or strange, and nobody else did, then it meant that something in Cipher’s prison had changed.

“What is it, then? What changed?” Enoch was eight years old — the equivalent of a human twelve-year-old — yet in that moment he appeared even younger. His mental connection to Cipher’s prison was only just forming, and he wasn’t used to it the way Andrew was.

“I’m not sure,” Andrew said. He cast his mind back, thinking it through. Yesterday, he had met Stanford and Dipper Pines, two members of the Cipher Wheel prophecy. They had gotten fuel from the spaceship crash site so that Stanford could power his machine. And the purpose of the machine—

Andrew’s brain stumbled to a stop.

“The time bubble,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Remember when I told you about the time bubble?” Andrew gently pushed Enoch off him, stood up, and started pacing. “Stanford Pines just opened an interdimensional portal. He told me that one of the Symbols — his brother — was on the other side. If the portal just opened, then the gravitational anomalies are over, and Stanford’s brother is back. He must be the ninth Symbol to come here.”

Enoch jumped to his feet. “And when nine Symbols are here, then the time bubble forms,” he said.

Andrew nodded. “That’s why we feel so strange. Time itself just shifted, and it won’t revert until all ten Symbols are here.”

Surely that was the answer. It made the most sense.

Even when he said it, though, it didn’t feel quite right.

“Don’t run off like that, Naomi. Let’s go back to Papa.” Moira had returned, with Naomi trailing behind her. “Andrew,” Moira continued, “do you think the anomalies are over?”

“I think so,” Andrew replied.

“Aww,” Naomi complained. “They were so fun.” Naomi was six, which meant she had the maturity of a human ten-year-old. The anomalies had brought her much entertainment — and her desire to play in them had brought Moira much worry.

“Well, they’re over now,” said Moira, and she didn’t bother to hide the relief in her voice. “Now — where is Drew? Stay here, Naomi, while I go find your brother.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said a new voice. “I’ve got him.”

Andrew’s brother, Caleb, strolled over to them with four-year-old Drew on his shoulders. The young minotaur (about seven years old, in human terms) clung to his uncle’s horns. “Can we do it again, Uncle Caleb? I wanna fly!”

“Sorry, bud, no more flying,” said Caleb. He looked to Moira and Andrew. “It’s been about eighteen hours. If there isn’t another anomaly in the next fifteen minutes, then the elders are going to let us go back outside.”

“I think the anomalies are over,” Andrew said. “I can feel it.”

Caleb nodded, unsurprised. “Should I go tell the elders, then?”

“I’ll do it,” Andrew said. “I have more to tell them than just that.”

“Caleb, can you watch the calves with me while Andrew does that?” asked Moira. The four calves were quite the handful for one person.

“I’ll go with Papa,” said Enoch. All the same, Caleb agreed to stay with Moira. He had a way with Drew that neither Andrew nor Moira seemed to have, and he was very helpful to have around when the calves were feeling rambunctious.

“Let’s go, then.” Andrew held his arms out, and Moira took Timmy back.

Then, suddenly, Andrew found his eyes fixed on his infant son. He froze.

“Papa? What’s wrong?” Enoch tugged on Andrew’s arm.

“Timmy,” Andrew said.

“What about him?” asked Moira.

“He’s. . .” Andrew’s hand went up to his horns. “Moira. . . how old is Timmy?”

Moira tilted her head in confusion. “Well, he’s an infant. He was only born a couple weeks. . .” She stopped, then tried again. “A couple months. . .”

She trailed off, looking bewildered.

Oh, no.

“Babies grow quickly,” Andrew said, “but Timmy looks just like he did a few weeks ago. Has he aged at all?”

Moira held Timmy close to her chest. “What are you saying, Andrew?” She sounded worried.

“I’m saying. . . I’m saying. . .”

It was Enoch who said it. “The time bubble,” he said. “It didn’t just start. It just _stopped_.”

Andrew realized it just as Enoch said it. “It stopped.” He pulled on his horns, forgetting that it was a habit he discouraged in his own calves. “Enoch — we have to go.”

“Wait,” Moira said. “What are you talking about? Why hasn’t Timmy aged? You’re — you’re right; he should be a lot bigger than this, but. . . why. . . What’s going on, Andrew?”

“The prophecy.” Andrew grabbed Enoch’s hand. “Every Symbol is here. I’m sorry, Moira, but we have to go.”

Andrew led Enoch through the cave, weaving through the other minotaurs as he tried to find the elders. “Papa,” Enoch panted, “shouldn’t we have felt the time bubble start?”

“We should have,” Andrew said. “We should have known about it. I missed it somehow.” He felt like kicking himself. How could he have missed this? The time bubble was built into Cipher’s prison for the safety of those who guarded it. It was supposed to give the minotaurs and other creatures of the forest time to deliberate about what to do when the tenth Symbol came into the prison. And Andrew had _missed it._

“All ten Symbols are here,” Andrew said. Enoch stumbled behind him, but Andrew didn’t slow down. “The entire forest separated from the rest of the dimension. The next thing that Cipher has to do to further his escape. . . is to get the dagger.”

“But — but Cipher doesn’t know that we have it, right?”

“Right, but that’s all he’ll be looking for now,” said Andrew. “We have to guard it — and, as soon as we can, we have to get all ten Symbols together.”

They rounded a corner, and the elders came into view. Andrew felt a bit of relief: The elders could help him figure out what to do next. Still, he couldn’t completely assuage his inner panic. He had missed the time bubble — and that put the creatures of the forest at a major disadvantage against Bill.

“What news, Andrew?” The elders looked concerned when they saw Andrew’s hurry. Twánat, an elder with salt-and-pepper hair, stepped forward. “Are the anomalies over?”

“I believe so,” Andrew said. “Enoch and I felt a change in the prison, and I think Stanford Pines opened his portal. His brother must have come out.”

“So we have another Symbol?” another elder asked.

“Yes,” Andrew said. “But there’s more than that. We think. . . we think that Stanford’s brother was the tenth Symbol to enter the forest.”

The elders glanced at each other. “The last?” asked Twánat. “What happened to the time bubble?”

“It just ended,” Andrew said. “The time bubble went up who knows how long ago. We missed it.”

A few elders threw their heads back in surprise. “How could we miss it?” one of them demanded.

“I don’t know. I should have felt it. But I didn’t even notice. My infant son hasn’t grown in weeks, maybe months, and I didn’t even notice that something was wrong.”

A troubled silence arose, surrounding Andrew like a thick blanket. Finally, Twánat spoke. “This is troubling news,” he said, though that was quite an understatement. “We’ll have to convene later to discuss it further. Right now, if the anomalies are over as you say, Andrew, we need to get back outside and take stock of the damage. Is everyone in agreement to leave?”

The elders nodded their agreement. “It’s about time we got out of these caves,” one of them muttered.

With that, the elders sent Andrew and Enoch to go spread the news: It was time for the minotaurs to go back outside and return to their homes.

If they still had homes to return to.

Andrew gathered his family and led them out of the caves. For the rest of the day, they cleaned up around the village, salvaging whatever they could and making plans to rebuild the damaged huts. Through it all, Andrew could hardly stay focused on the work. He was too busy thinking about the time bubble — and condemning himself for missing it.

All ten Symbols were here. If Bill Cipher got possession of the dagger — the dagger that Andrew had sworn to protect — then the demon could begin his escape. Andrew felt as if he were the only one standing between Cipher and freedom.

He could only hope, then, that he could stay standing.

~~~~~

It wasn’t until the evening that Caleb could finally slip away.

The village was in shambles after the anomalies, and everyone was confused because of the time jump. They had lost more than three hours to the time bubble, and that was hard to get used to. The elders and Andrew did their best to keep everyone calm and organize the rebuilding of the town, but no one was quite ready to get to work after the gravitational anomalies. Least of all Caleb.

For the rest of the day, he worried. He stayed close to his family, doing his best to keep his niece and nephews entertained while Andrew and Moira worked. All the while, he worried about the other side of his family — the secret side.

Caleb walked beside the small cliffs that surrounded the minotaur village. The rock walls loomed over him, casting deeper shadows than were already present from the night. He reached the edge of the village, then slipped out into the dark forest beyond. His hooves took him automatically along a path he’d walked hundreds of times before — but this time, he didn’t know if anyone would be waiting for him when he got to his destination.

He didn’t have to wonder for long, thankfully. He could soon see the beam of a flashlight in the distance, and his heart lifted. She was here. That had to be her. She was safe.

Though no one in his village knew it, Caleb — the bachelor brother of Andrew — considered himself married. He had a wife; he even had a child; but he had to keep them a secret from the other minotaurs. Caleb’s marriage was official only in his mind.

For no minotaur would ever allow him to marry a human.

Caleb approached the clearing. This place was the sanctuary for him and his wife; they had been meeting here for over thirteen years. Her flashlight pointed downwards and reflected brightly off the snow, and Caleb couldn’t see her face. But he knew it was her.

“Yingtai,” he called softly.

She started at the sound of his voice. “Caleb?” she whispered. She moved her flashlight to shine on him, and he winced in the artificial light. “Oh,” she said, relief coming into her voice, “it’s you.”

“Yingtai,” he said again, and his voice held the same amount of relief. Yingtai balanced her flashlight in the branches of a nearby tree, which created a bit of ambient light to see by, and Caleb moved across the clearing. He wrapped his arms around her. She was bundled up in winter clothes, but she still shivered in the cold night air. “You’re freezing,” Caleb said. “Do you have any mushrooms?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t find any in the dark,” she said. “I’m okay, though.”

Yes, that was true. She might be cold, but she was otherwise okay. Caleb held her close, grateful that she wasn’t hurt. “What about Mei Xing?” he asked. “Is she all right?”

“She’s not hurt,” Yingtai said. “She’s shaken from all this, but she’s not hurt. She was the one who. . .” She stopped and looked up at him. “Do you know anything about the time bubble, Jiā lēi?”

“The time bubble?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Yes, my brother has been worrying about it all day. What do you know?”

“That it just ended, but nobody knew about it while it was here. We lost about three and a half hours when it ended, too. All ten of Cipher’s Symbols are in town.”

Caleb nodded. That’s basically what Andrew had said.

“Mei Xing was the one who noticed,” Yingtai said. “She noticed that the sun had moved through the sky.”

“She’s a smart girl,” Caleb said.

“Yes, but it frightened her. And I don’t know. . . I don’t know how long I can keep things hidden from her.” Yingtai leaned her head against Caleb’s chest. “This is all moving so fast.”

“Don’t worry,” Caleb assured her. He swayed back and forth with Yingtai in his arms. “It’ll all be worth it when it’s over. Cipher will take us to his dimension, and we can live in peace with our Candy. We won’t have to keep secrets from her anymore.”

Yingtai was quiet for a moment. Then, “She can finally meet her father,” she said.

“Yes.” Caleb had been waiting twelve years for his daughter to meet him. And now, with the time bubble over and the Symbols in town, that day was finally near. The thought made his throat close up. “I’ll be with my baby,” he whispered.

“Soon,” Yingtai agreed. She looked up at Caleb again. “Jiā lēi — do you have any information about how we can help Cipher? How did you find out about the time bubble?”

Caleb met her gaze. Those eyes, he knew, held not only Yingtai’s sight. They also provided a way for Bill Cipher to see into their conversation. Humans were a liability: Anything they said or did would be heard and seen by Cipher. It was why Andrew and the other minotaurs would never approve of Caleb’s union with Yingtai — because they couldn’t let Cipher see into their lives through Yingtai’s human eyes.

But Caleb had decided long ago that helping Bill Cipher was the best way to get what he and Yingtai really wanted. Only in Cipher’s dimension would they be free. Only in Cipher’s dimension would they be able to live in peace with their daughter. Caleb didn’t mind that Cipher could see through Yingtai if it meant working for that goal.

“Andrew is the head guardian over Cipher’s prison,” Caleb said. “Remember? He knows about all this. He and my nephew Enoch were the ones who realized that the time bubble had stopped.”

“Do you know what the next step is, then?” asked Yingtai. “Did Andrew say anything about that?”

“I’m not sure,” Caleb said. “We were busy today with the cleanup from the anomalies. But I overheard him saying something about a dagger to Enoch, and the two of them left for a while. And he mentioned to me that he was horrified that we’d missed the time bubble. He seems like he’s taking on all the stress of keeping Cipher imprisoned.”

Caleb hated when Andrew got like this. If only Caleb could make Andrew see the truth — that Cipher’s escape was a good thing, that Caleb needed it to be with his wife and daughter — then maybe Andrew wouldn’t be so worried all the time. Maybe Andrew would be able to work _with_ Cipher instead of against him.

“I wish we could tell Andrew that it’s okay,” Yingtai said, echoing Caleb’s thoughts. “He’s so misinformed.”

“I know,” Caleb said. “But if we did that before the time was right, he would only keep us apart.” Being kept away from Yingtai wasn’t an option. The only solution, as much as it pained Caleb to admit it, was to work against Andrew behind his back.

Yingtai nodded. “You should contact Cipher, then, and keep him updated. See if you can find out anything else from Andrew.”

“I’ll do that,” Caleb said.

They stood there in silence for a moment, swaying together in the cold breeze. Then Yingtai spoke up again. “Tomorrow, the Order is meeting to research more about Cipher’s prison and the Cipher Wheel prophecy,” she said. “I didn’t want to go — you know how reading English gives me a headache — but maybe I should. Then I can tell you what we find out.”

“And we’ll be able to compare,” Caleb said, nodding. “You should attend.” He didn’t envy her. Reading English gave him a headache, too. Andrew, like many minotaurs, was diligent in studying English and reading the books they had (the King James Bible, journals written by American settlers, simple grammar books for teaching the native human tribes) in order to better speak and understand the language for the rare occasions when he spoke with humans — but Caleb was not so studious as his brother. Caleb knew how to speak English, since it was the only language that he and Yingtai had in common; but he preferred the language spoken in his village, which was a mixture between English, the Sahaptin language of the Yakama tribe, and the native minotauran language spoken in their dimension of origin. Even though his native tongue was a jumble of other languages, it was still the language most familiar and comfortable to Caleb.

“All right,” Yingtai said. She didn’t exactly look happy about going to the Order meeting, but she understood the necessity. “I’ll try to come back tomorrow night. I. . . I should probably leave you now.”

“Already?” asked Caleb.

“I told Candy that I wouldn’t be gone long,” Yingtai said apologetically. “I don’t want to worry her.”

“Right,” Caleb said reluctantly. “I’ll let you go, then. But first,” he added, “let’s find some mushrooms for you. I don’t want you to freeze on the way.”

Yingtai looked like she wanted to protest, but Caleb wouldn’t have it. So she followed her husband as he went off to look for mushrooms — and not just any mushrooms, but a particular species of mushroom with spores that magically gave off heat. Caleb could see far better in the dark than Yingtai could, and it wasn’t long before he found some mushrooms that he handed to her. “There,” he said. “Put those under your gloves. That’ll keep you warm.”

“I’d rather just stay with you,” Yingtai said, giving Caleb one last hug.

“Me too,” he said. “But Mei Xing needs you.”

She held him close. “I love you, Jiā lēi.”

“I love you, too.”

Yingtai took her flashlight and left. Just like that, Caleb was left alone again. Alone, without his wife. Without his daughter.

He turned and trudged back to the minotaur village. He’d see Yingtai again tomorrow. That thought kept him going. Sometime before she came, he needed to learn what he could from Andrew, then contact Cipher to tell him. And there was still plenty of rebuilding to do after the gravitational anomalies.

But it was worth it, he told himself. It would all be worth it. Someday, everything he was doing would pay off.

Someday, he’d be able to live openly with his wife and his daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**JANUARY 6, 2013**

The last two days had been hard, but that was no excuse for Pacifica to be as filthy as she was.

“This is unacceptable, Pacifica,” she said to herself, and she forced herself to sit up. “Lincoln may hate you now because you didn’t tell him about Stanford, but that doesn’t mean you can lay around in bed and cry about it all day. Into the shower with you.”

It was the morning after Lincoln had come back from the forest — and then left again to be with the Pines. He had at least had the decency to come see Pacifica before he abandoned her, but only for a moment. Then he had disappeared again to talk to Stanford, and Bill later appeared to tell Pacifica that Lincoln was staying the night at the Mystery Museum. She had been incredulous that Bill would let that happen — but the demon had only shrugged and said, “This night will get Lincoln the **closure** that he wants, and then he’ll be **back** to helping **me**.”

According to Bill, Lincoln would be back at about ten A.M., and Pacifica had to be there to meet him. So at eight A.M. she pulled herself out of bed, rinsed off the remnants of her tears in the shower, and got ready for the day. Both the night of terrifying gravitational anomalies and the night of fear over what the Pines would do to Lincoln were in the past: Now it was time to move on and face the new day. Lincoln was safe, from what Bill had said, and he would come back soon. Pacifica was determined to act mature when he did.

She dressed in her purple psychic outfit, since it helped her feel confident, and styled her hair in an elaborate updo. Then she grabbed a simple breakfast — oh, how she was looking forward to good cooking now that Lincoln was back — and ate it before heading back into the bathroom and doing her makeup. It had been a while since she’d dressed up, and she felt better already.

But even as she smiled at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t banish the fearful thoughts that had been swirling around her mind since last night. What if Lincoln hated Pacifica now? What if Stanford convinced Lincoln to fight against Bill? What if Mabel had charmed Lincoln to like _her_ more than he liked Pacifica?

“Don’t think about that right now,” Pacifica told herself. “You’ll see him soon enough, and you can assess the damage for yourself.”

“’Assess the damage’?” said another voice. “What do you think I’ve done to him, Pacifica?”

Pacifica paused, her mascara brush dangling from her fingers, and glared into the mirror. “I wasn’t talking to _you_ , Mabel.”

Mabel’s spirit grinned widely. “What do you think I’ve done?” she repeated. She stood in the back of the bathroom, leaning against the wall.

“Don’t taunt me,” Pacifica said. She forced herself to keep applying her mascara. “Bill told me that Lincoln was safe last night, and Bill can’t lie. So whatever you tried to do to Lincoln must have failed.”

“Are you _sure_ Bill can’t lie?” Spirit Mabel pushed herself off the wall and came closer to Pacifica, who did her best not to flinch. “What if I did hurt Lincoln? What then?”

“Bill can’t lie,” Pacifica repeated. “Unlike _you_. Now go away.”

“You only know that because Bill told you so,” Mabel said. “He could’ve been lying when he said it.”

“It’s part of his prison, Mabel — and _you’re_ trying to keep him captive. You know as well as I do that he can’t lie.”

“Then he must have been misinformed about Lincoln being safe,” Mabel said in a low voice. “Do you want to know what I did to him, Pacifica? Do you want to know what I did to Lincoln?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Pacifica said through gritted teeth.

“I tortured him.” Spirit Mabel smiled. “I tortured him, and I made Dipper watch. Stanford pinned Lincoln down, and I—”

“Shut up!” Pacifica turned on Mabel. “You’re lying, so just shut up.”

“What if I’m not lying?”

“Well, Lincoln will be back soon, so I’ll find out then. _Go away_ , Mabel.”

“I never go away,” Mabel said. “Even if you don’t see me, I’m always there.”

“Well, do me a favor and get your ugly face out of my sight,” Pacifica said. She looked at herself in the mirror, checked that her makeup looked good, and clicked off the small electric lights around the mirror edges.

When the last electric light went out, Mabel was gone.

Pacifica sighed, half in relief and half in frustration, and took the firelit lantern from its hook across the bathroom. While Lincoln had been gone, a Northwest servant had come every morning to help Pacifica light the lanterns, but no one had shown up yet today. She only had the one lit lantern, which she carried around with her. It made the Order headquarters seem dreary and lonely.

But not for long. Lincoln would be back. He would help her light the other lanterns.

“I wish he’d told me how to turn on the overhead lights before he left,” she muttered to herself as she walked through the dark Order halls. “I know he prefers the firelight, but it’s terrible for people’s eyes.” At least the Northwest servants had given her electric mirror lights to help her get ready for the day. Putting on makeup by firelight would have been awful.

Eventually, Pacifica made it to the Order entrance, and she replaced the dun lantern at the base of the stairs with her lit lantern. Then she looked up the stairs, down at her bare arms, and back up at the stairs.

“Let’s go outside,” she decided aloud.

She pulled her long black gloves further up her arms, adjusted her shawl around her shoulders, and started up the stairs. Yes, it was surely freezing outside; and yes, she didn’t have a coat; but Pacifica needed a bit of sunlight. Even she, who preferred to stay indoors, felt starved for fresh air down here.

The freezing winter air nipped at the exposed skin on her arms as Pacifica pushed open the door. The morning sun gave its light but retained its warmth, and Pacifica found herself shivering. She didn’t step out of the doorway, since she didn’t want to walk in the snow; but she enjoyed the fresh air, cold as it was.

She didn’t see Lincoln quite yet. She wanted to wait for him by the door, but it was too cold. So she closed the door, went back down the stairs, and waited there.

It felt like forever before the door finally opened again. Pacifica’s heart lifted as she saw Lincoln’s grey hair, glinting in the winter sunlight from outside. Lincoln closed the door and came down the stairs. “Pacifica?” he called.

“Right here,” she said.

He jumped a bit as he saw her — he was probably expecting her to be back in her room — but quickly recovered. “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she replied. He looked unhurt, just as Bill had promised. She wanted to run forward and hug him tightly, but she refrained. She would act mature. She would show him that it didn’t bother her that he had run off to be with the Pines.

Even though it did bother her. A lot.

“Why are you in that outfit?” Lincoln asked. “Is there a special occasion?”

“You’re back. I think that’s special,” Pacifica said with a smile. “How did it go?” She tried her best to ignore Spirit Mabel, who had reappeared behind Lincoln and was currently smirking at her.

“It. . . went well,” Lincoln said.

“They didn’t hurt you?”

Lincoln frowned. “No, of course not,” he said. “They’d never hurt me.”

Spirit Mabel’s grin widened, and Pacifica shoved down a sudden feeling of panic. That was exactly what Dipper said, every time Pacifica had tried to convince him of Mabel’s evil. Mabel must have brainwashed Lincoln, too. Why? Pacifica silently asked Spirit Mabel. Why do you have to hurt everyone I love?

“Pacifica, are you okay?” Lincoln asked.

She shook her head to clear it. “Of course,” she said. “I’m just glad to have you back. How. . . how’s Dipper?”

Lincoln smiled. “He was very sweet,” he said.

“He’s not hurt?”

“No, although he was sad to see me go. So was Mabel.”

Pacifica scoffed. “I’m sure she _was_ sad to see you go. She and Stanford want to do everything they can to keep you from me.”

Lincoln gave her a long look. “They wanted me to stay with them,” he said, “so I guess that’s partly right.”

“Well, it’s a good thing for all of us that you escaped them,” Pacifica said.

A pained look came to his face, but Lincoln didn’t say anything. Instead, he took the lit lantern off the hook, hung the dun lantern back up, and started walking down the hall. Pacifica followed him. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that last part — but it was true. If Lincoln couldn’t see that, then he was being deceived.

After a few minutes of silence, Lincoln spoke up again. “Stanford told me about my past,” he said.

“Did he?” replied Pacifica, feigning interest. Inside, she worried all the more than Lincoln would choose Stanford over her.

“Yes. I still don’t remember anything, but. . . I know now. And everything he told me feels right. I’m just relieved. . .” He trailed off, then swallowed and tried again. “I’m just relieved that he accepts me, even with my amnesia.”

Pacifica came to a stop before she realized what she was doing. Lincoln stopped, too, and turned back to her. “Pacifica?”

“I. . .” Pacifica felt tears coming to her eyes; she tried to force them back down, but they refused to comply. “I accept you, too,” she said. “With your amnesia.”

Lincoln was quiet. Then he placed the lantern on the floor, stepped forward, and put his arms around Pacifica. “Of course you do,” he whispered, holding her close. “Of course you do.”

He was going to smudge her makeup. These tears were going to smudge her makeup. But Pacifica couldn’t stop the tears, and she certainly wasn’t going to push Lincoln away. She buried her head in his chest.

“But you hid all this from me,” Lincoln said quietly. “That really hurts.”

He didn’t push her away, and Pacifica didn’t pull away. Of course I hid it from you, she answered silently. Bill told me to hide it from you — and aren’t we supposed to follow Bill? Wasn’t it better before Stanford found you — back when it was just you and me? Don’t make me compete with the Pines, Lincoln. Mabel always wins, somehow, and I’ll be left all alone, just like last night.

That thought was terrifying, and Pacifica clung to Lincoln and cried all the harder.

“Stay with me,” she said through her tears. “Don’t leave me again. Please.”

She didn’t know if Lincoln could understand her muffled words, but he held her tighter. “I’m back now,” he said. “I’m here.”

“Mabel and Stanford can’t take you from me,” Pacifica said. “I can’t lose you.”

Lincoln sighed. “I’m not going anywhere. Cipher won’t let me.” He pulled back from the hug. “Speaking of which. . . I think he’s going to take over soon.”

“He told me he’d wait until you got to the library,” Pacifica said. “So that I could talk to you first.”

Lincoln looked mildly surprised. “Well, that’s good,” he said.

“Lincoln, you don’t—” Pacifica stopped. She couldn’t ask this next question. Could she? She’d already lost her composure, despite her determination to act mature. She might as well get an answer to her other question. Even if it scared her.

She took a deep breath. “You don’t hate me now, do you?”

Spirit Mabel — who had been following a few yards behind — let out a derisive laugh. “Of course he does,” she said. Pacifica looked into Lincoln’s eyes and did her best to ignore the spirit.

“No, Pacifica, I don’t hate you,” Lincoln said. His expression was pained, but it wasn’t angry. It wasn’t hateful. “I’m. . . I’m sad, and I think it’s going to hurt for a while that you and everyone else hid Stanford from me. But I don’t hate you.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Pacifica said. “I was just doing what Bill told me.”

The pain in Lincoln’s eyes increased. “I’ve found that doing what Bill wants usually hurts other people,” he said.

“Bill helps us.” Pacifica was glad that Lincoln didn’t hate her, but the way he was talking about Bill was worrying. “Following him only helps us. This is all going to work out, and you and I can still be together.”

Lincoln gave her a long, sad look. “Pacifica,” he said, “do you know what happened to your parents?”

She frowned. “You shot them with the memory gun and made them forget about me. Bill told me. Why?” What did that have to do with anything?

“Do you miss them?”

“Not really,” Pacifica said. “I have you now.”

Lincoln stared at her with that same sad look. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m sorry I made them forget. I shouldn’t have.”

“What are you talking about?” Pacifica asked, her eyes widening. “You were doing what Bill told you to do. Don’t apologize for that.”

Lincoln shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t right.”

Pacifica stared at him. What was he going on about? Her parents were as happy as ever without her, from what Bill had said. Sure, maybe she missed them a _little_ , but Bill had ordered that they forget about her, so that’s what had to happen. Bill knew more than they did; he knew that it was better for Pacifica’s parents to forget their daughter. Was Lincoln doubting that?

Lincoln sighed and picked up the lantern. “Let’s get to the library before Bill gets too impatient,” he said. “Some Northwest servants should meet us there, and more Order members will come soon.”

“And Bill is going to possess you?”

Lincoln grimaced. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry,” Pacifica said. “I think I’ll still be able to see you when you’re a spirit.”

Lincoln glanced down at her. “Really?”

“Yeah, I can see spirits sometimes. Not very well, but that’s probably because they’ve been without a body for so long. I bet I’ll be able to see you pretty clearly.”

He gave her a relieved look. “Well, that will make this a lot less boring, if that’s the case,” he said. He started down the hall, and Pacifica followed.

They walked until they could see the stairs down to the library. Lantern light shone from the door, which meant that people — Northwest servants, no doubt — were already down there.

Before they got to the stairs, Lincoln stopped again. “Pacifica,” he said carefully, “what would you say if I asked you to join the Pines and me in activating the Cipher Wheel?”

The words slammed into Pacifica, and she stared at Lincoln. Everything clicked into place just then, but Pacifica didn’t like the finished picture at all. “You’re not just doubting him,” she said. “You want to fight against him.”

Lincoln closed his eyes briefly. “Yes, I do,” he said. “He lied to me, Pacifica. He kept my _family_ from me.”

“Bill doesn’t lie,” Pacifica said.

“Then he convinced all the rest of you to lie for him! This isn’t right, Pacifica. I should be with my family right now, not down here waiting to be kicked out of my own body.”

Pacifica felt tears coming to her eyes again, and she didn’t try to fight them this time. She stared up at Lincoln, but her view of him was blurry. “Am I not your family?” she whispered.

“Of course you are, but—” Lincoln ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t be here either. You should be outside in the sun. You should be with your parents.”

The tears evaporated into anger. “My parents got rid of me!” Pacifica yelled. “Bill told me how my dad went to him after I lost my amulet and asked him to _fix_ me to be the perfect daughter! They just wanted to control me; they didn’t care about me!” Her voice was hysterical. “I’m supposed to be here with you, but now _you_ want to get rid of me, too!”

“No, no, Pacifica, that’s not what I meant,” Lincoln said. He put up a calming hand. “I don’t want to get rid of you. You don’t have to go back to your parents. But you and I need to get out of here.”

Pacifica took a sharp breath. “Well, you can’t, because Bill’s going to possess you if you don’t get to the library soon. And I’m not leaving.”

“Pacifica—”

“Don’t. You can’t turn me against Lord Cipher.” Pacifica was horrified that Lincoln would even try.

“He’s not helping you, Pacifica.”

“Yes, he is!” Sure, Bill hadn’t been around very much for the past two days, but that was just because he was busy.

“No! He’s just using you, like he used me! Like he’s still using me!” Lincoln’s eyes were desperate.

Behind Lincoln, there was a flash of yellow, and Bill Cipher appeared. He reached towards Lincoln and made a tugging motion with his finger.

Lincoln stiffened. “He’s coming. I — I have to get down there. Just — think about what I said.”

Pacifica didn’t say anything. Lincoln set down the lantern and went down the stairs to the library.

Bill watched Lincoln go, then floated toward Pacifica. “I’m **sorry** , Crescent Moon,” he said. “I’m **sorry** he’s acting like this. I’m going to **go** and get started on our **research**. Come join us when you **can** , okay?” He turned away, then looked back at her. “Oh, and I have something to **tell** you **later** ,” he said, “about your **grandfather**. Don’t let me **forget**.”

Pacifica managed a small smile. “You never forget.”

“Then you’ll have an **easy** job.” With that, Bill flew after Lincoln. Pacifica was left alone.

Except for Spirit Mabel.

She sauntered up to Pacifica. “Well, Lincoln seems pretty different, doesn’t he?” she asked.

Pacifica spun on her heel. “What did you do to him?” she demanded.

“I brought him over to _my_ side,” Spirit Mabel said triumphantly. “Now he wants to be with _me_ , not _you_. I’ve tricked him, just like I’ve tricked Dipper.”

Pacifica covered her ears. “Stop. Lincoln still loves me. You’re wrong.”

“Tell yourself whatever you want. That doesn’t change the truth.” Mabel came until she was only inches from Pacifica’s face. “I was right all along. Bill _was_ lying. Lincoln wasn’t safe with the Pines at all.”

“Bill can’t lie,” Pacifica whispered.

Mabel’s smile only grew. “But Bill let him stay with me. Lincoln can never be safe around _me_.”

Pacifica squeezed her eyes shut.

“Face it, Pacifica,” said Spirit Mabel. “You’ve lost Lincoln. He might be here with you right now, but that will only last so long. Soon, I’ll steal him from you. Just like I stole Gideon. Just like I stole Dipper.”

Pacifica pressed her hands harder against her ears. But she could still hear Mabel’s last taunt.

“Soon, you’ll be all alone.”


	3. Chapter 3

A raspy voice came from across the room. “Water.”

Melody looked up from her book. “Water,” Fiddleford rasped again. His left eye was open, staring at Melody. His right eye was squeezed shut.

He was awake.

Melody jumped into action. She stood, dropped her book on her chair, and crossed the room to where she had a pitcher of water on the dresser. Then she poured a cup of water and took it to the left side of the bed. “Do you think you can sit up?” she asked Fiddleford.

He blinked his left eye and said nothing.

“Okay, let’s try together.” Melody set the cup on the bedside table and reached for Fiddleford. “I’m going to help sit you up, okay, Fiddleford?”

“Water,” he whispered.

Melody put her arm under his right shoulder, the one farther from her. “Can you roll over towards me?” she asked. He moved to roll onto his left shoulder, and she supported him by pushing up on his right side. “Okay, now your legs,” she said. She put her right arm under his left shoulder and around his back, then used her left hand to push the blankets back until his legs were uncovered. With her left arm hooked under Fiddleford’s knees, Melody bent them towards his chest. The fabric of the hospital clothes — which Melody had changed Fiddleford into yesterday — felt soft on her fingers.

“We’re going to sit up now, okay? I’ll help you up and move your legs off the bed. On the count of three. Ready? One, two, three.”

Melody pushed up on his left shoulder while moving his legs so that his lower legs hung off the bed. She kept her arm around his back once he was upright, and he leaned against her. “Water,” he said again.

“I have some right here.” She reached across with her left hand to get the cup, and thankfully the awkward maneuvering didn’t spill the water. “Drink slowly, okay? If you’re having trouble swallowing, stop drinking.”

She held the cup to his lips and tipped it back gently. Fiddleford reached up, wrapped his hands around hers, and drank noisily — desperately — from the cup. Soon he had drained the whole thing without choking or spitting out any of it.

“More,” he said. His voice was slightly stronger.

“Okay. I’m going to lay you back down.”

“I can sit up,” Fiddleford said slowly.

“Are you sure? Here, I’m going to let go for a second, and I’ll catch you if you can’t stay up.” She pushed him up gently, then moved her arm back a bit. She fully expected him to fall onto her arm — he probably thought he had more strength than he actually did.

Fiddleford didn’t fall.

“More water,” he pleaded.

With wide eyes, Melody took the cup and refilled it, bringing the pitcher back with her in case she needed it again. Fiddleford stayed upright. She set the pitcher on the bedside table, put her arm around Fiddleford’s shoulder again, and brought the cup of water to his lips. He tried to take it from her hands, but she didn’t let go. She tipped the cup slowly until Fiddleford had once again drained it.

He swallowed, then let out a sharp burst of air. “Thank you.”

“Do you want more?”

“Not. . . not now.” Fiddleford leaned back onto Melody’s arm; he was already losing strength.

“Okay, let’s lay you back down,” Melody said. She put the cup back on the bedside table, then hooked her arm around Fiddleford’s knees. She helped Fiddleford lift his legs back on the bed, helped him onto his left shoulder, and helped him roll onto his back. “Do you want the covers?” Melody asked.

Fiddleford nodded, so Melody put the bed covers over him. “There,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“I. . .” He seemed lucid enough to have a conversation, but he also looked tired. “Where am I? Who are you?”

“My name is Melody Ramirez. I’m a nurse, and I’m going to help you. You’re in the Mystery Museum. Do you know where that is?”

Fiddleford blinked his left eye. “I. . . I don’t know that place.”

Oh, right. The Museum wasn’t called the Museum when Fiddleford was last here. “It’s another name for Stanford Pines’ house,” Melody said. “Do you remember Stanford Pines?”

Fiddleford’s eye widened. “Stanford. He. . . he wanted to know where Stanley was. . . but I don’t know. . .”

“It’s okay,” Melody said. “We found Stanley. He was here just this morning. It’s okay.”

“He was — he was here?”

“Yes.” Lee had left at ten A.M. this morning, and now it was about two P.M. “He had to leave, but he was here.”

“Then. . . then does Stanford know. . . ?”

“We know about the amnesia,” Melody said. She kept her voice calm, despite the sadness the words brought her.

Fiddleford squeezed both eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Melody felt the urge to continue on this subject — mainly so she could find out _why_ Fiddleford would do such a thing as erase Stanley’s past — but she focused on more urgent matters. “I want to help you, Fiddleford,” she said, “but I need to know what you need. Can you tell me more about where you were before we opened the portal?”

He didn’t respond. For a moment, she thought he had fallen asleep again, but then his left eye opened. “Is. . . is Stanford here?”

“No, he’s gone right now,” Melody said. Ford and Dipper had gone to talk to Robbie and Wendy about the Cipher Wheel. “Can you tell me about the other dimension, please?”

“I want to talk to him.”

“Later,” Melody said. “He’ll be here later. But I can help you more now if you answer my question.”

Fiddleford squinted at her from under his bushy white eyebrows. His right eye was still closed. “Your question?”

“The other dimension. What happened there?”

“It. . . it was empty,” Fiddleford said.

“You said that when we first brought you back. What did you do? How did you survive?”

“I didn’t. . . do anything. I just. . . just floated there. . . .”

“Floated there? What do you mean?”

“Just. . . just floated. . . in the emptiness.” His left eye closed, and his voice slowed down.

“Stay with me, Fiddleford,” Melody coaxed. “Are you trying to tell me that you stayed in one spot? For thirty years?”

No response.

“Fiddleford?” Melody leaned down and checked his pulse and his breathing. His heartbeat was steady, and his breathing had settled back into the rhythmic sound of sleep.

With a sigh, Melody took the cup and the pitcher back over the dresser, picked up her book, and dropped back into her chair. She was more baffled than ever. Fiddleford was alive, and he even seemed fairly strong — but _what_ had happened in that other dimension? He made it sound like he hadn’t even _moved_ in thirty years. But if that were the case, then he would have starved. He would have died from dehydration. His muscles would have atrophied away until he didn’t have the strength even to swallow, much less to sit up on his own.

Yet he was alive. And he’d both swallowed and sat up by himself before he’d lost energy and fallen back to sleep. He’d managed to hold a somewhat lucid conversation with her, too.

Melody dropped her book in her lap and put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered to herself. Yes, she was a nurse; and yes, Fiddleford seemed to be doing okay so far; but how was she supposed to help him if she had no idea what he had been through? No one had ever trained her on how to treat a patient who had just come from another dimension. He could be suffering from anything, and Melody had no way to know or to help him. He could even have brought a foreign disease back with him, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it or even identify it.

Before Lee had left, he had suggested that Melody go find the nymphs and ask for their help. It was a good idea — Melody certainly needed the help — but she wasn’t sure how she would go about that. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving Fiddleford alone while she looked for the nymphs, and she was hesitant to send Ford while he was still hurt.

But, well, he’d probably go anyway. They needed help from the creatures of the forest — help with more than just Fiddleford’s condition. Melody shouldn’t stop Ford from going to ask for that help.

She wondered how Ford and Dipper were doing with contacting Robbie. Were Greg and Janice at their home with Robbie, or had they gone to the Order to join Lee? They wouldn’t hurt Ford if they had the chance, would they? They were bound to be angry at him for what he had done to them the past few days: punching Janice in the face and leaving Greg unconscious in the UFO. Melody could only hope that Ford’s presence at their house wouldn’t incite more violence.

Hope. Melody hoped for a lot of things right now. She considered herself an optimistic and hopeful person, but she also knew it was important for her to work towards those hopes. Yet, at the moment, it didn’t seem like she could do much of anything. It made her feel useless.

She hated feeling useless.

She sighed and dropped her hands to her lap. All she could do right now was watch over Fiddleford. She would do everything she could to help him. When Ford got back, she’d talk to him about going to find the nymphs.

She could only hope that Ford would get back safely. She could only hope that the nymphs would be willing to help them. She could only hope that Fiddleford would be okay.

And while she hoped, she would do everything she could to make her hopes a reality.

~~~~~

Robbie was sitting in his room at his desk, hitting his drumsticks absently against the wood, when he heard the commotion at the door.

Dad was saying something in strident tones — the tones he used when he was angry but didn’t want to be loud. Another voice responded, and its owner made no attempt to be quiet. “I need to speak with Robbie,” Stanford Pines said, his voice carrying through the house to Robbie’s ears.

Robbie jumped to his feet. Mr. Pines was here. Robbie wanted to talk to him, too — but Mom and Dad had refused to let Robbie leave the house yesterday after he’d gotten back from the forest.

Yesterday, a hamadryad named June had appeared when Robbie called out for help, and she’d told him that the barrier at the edge of town went all the way around the town and the forest in a big dome. She’d also told him other things that had left him with a lot of questions. He’d asked his parents, but they’d clammed up and refused to answer.

Maybe Mr. Pines would answer Robbie’s questions.

Robbie went out into the hall, heading for the front door. Mom was there, waiting for him. “What are you doing, Robbie?” she asked. She tried to keep her tone casual. She failed.

“I know Mr. Pines is here,” Robbie said. “I want to talk to him.”

“You can’t,” Mom said. “We won’t let him in.”

“Then I’ll go out there.” Robbie tried to push past her, but she put herself firmly in his way. “Mom,” he said in exasperation. He was stronger than his mom, he knew — but he didn’t want to forcibly move her out of the way. “Move, Mom. Please.”

“No,” she said. Her voice shook, and she looked pained. Her cheek had a shiny purple bruise from yesterday, when Mr. Pines had punched her. It made Robbie angry to see it — what gave Mr. Pines the right to hurt Robbie’s parents? — yet Robbie knew that he still needed to talk to Mr. Pines, because the Pines were right in a lot of areas where Robbie’s parents were wrong.

Robbie felt caught in the middle of this conflict between his parents and the Pines. He hated it. He hated that he couldn’t trust his own parents to do the right thing.

Right now, he needed to get to the door. “Get out of my way, Mom,” he said.

Her eyes flared stubbornly, and she didn’t move. Well, he didn’t want to do this, but he had to get past: so he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her out of his way, then hurried down the hall. “Get back here, Robbie!” she called after him. He ignored her and ran to the entryway.

“I’m right here, Mr. Pines,” he said. His socks skidded on the polished wooden floor of the entryway. His dad was by the doorway, pushing against it to keep it closed. The door was slightly open, and it trembled as someone on the other side pushed back.

“Go back to your room, Robbie,” Dad ordered. “And you,” he called through the door, “leave us alone.”

“I want to talk to him, Dad,” Robbie said.

“ _No_ ,” Dad said.

“Robbie!” called a voice through the door. It didn’t sound like Stanford — it sounded like Dipper. “Robbie, we need to tell you something!”

Robbie grabbed his dad’s arm and tried to pull him away from the door. “Let them in,” he said. “Let me talk to them.”

Robbie was stronger than his mom, but he wasn’t as strong as his dad. Greg shoved Robbie away and gave a final push at the door, slamming it closed and locking it. “Leave us in peace!” he shouted.

“Let me in!” The doorknob rattled as Stanford turned it. “Don’t make me break this door!”

As much as Robbie wanted to talk to Mr. Pines, he certainly didn’t want the man to destroy their property. “Just a sec, Mr. Pines!” he called. “I’ll head out the back!” He ran into the living room before his dad could catch him.

Robbie was only in his socks. There wasn’t much of a walkway outside — his feet would get soaked for sure. He was wearing only a thin sweater, too. But if Dad and Mom wouldn’t let the Pines inside, then Robbie would go out to them. He threw open the back sliding door and ran outside. His dad was hot on his heels as Robbie ran as fast as he could through the deep, freezing snow.

He’d better not get frostbite from this.

When he got to the side of the house, Robbie saw Dipper running toward him. “This way!” Dipper called. Robbie ran after him.

Mr. Pines met Robbie and Dipper on the driveway. “Let’s go,” Mr. Pines said.

“Wait!” Dad caught up to them and stopped on the driveway, breathing heavily. Greg and Robbie were both in their socks, and Robbie’s feet were freezing cold. “Wait, please,” Dad panted. “Don’t take my son.”

“He just wants to talk to me, Dad,” said Robbie. He moved closer to Mr. Pines, ready to run for it if he had to. “Let’s just go inside, and we can talk.” Robbie didn’t want to run away. He would if he had to, but he really didn’t want to.

“I can’t let you in my house,” Dad said to Mr. Pines.

“I won’t hurt anyone,” Mr. Pines said, “even if you and Janice deserve it.”

“Hey now.” Robbie stepped between Dad and Mr. Pines. “You don’t get to talk like that, Mr. Pines. You’ve been terrible to my parents these last couple days, and it’s not cool.”

“We sent the minotaurs back to the UFO,” Dipper pointed out.

“And my mom’s sporting a nasty bruise from yesterday,” Robbie countered. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“She lied to me! You both lied to me!” said Mr. Pines, glaring at Greg.

“Look,” said Robbie, “if they won’t apologize, I will. I’m sorry they lied to you about Stanley. I really am. And I’m glad that you found him yesterday. Now can we _please_ go inside, where it’s warm, and have a civil conversation?”

“I didn’t know Ford hurt your mom,” Dipper said meekly.

“You’re fine, Dip-kid,” Robbie assured him. He looked back to Mr. Pines. “I get that you’re mad, Mr. Pines. I get mad about the Order and stuff all the time. But can we just calmly talk about all this? I have a lot of questions that I was hoping I could ask you.”

“Robbie,” Dad said, “I know why he’s here. He’s going to get you involved in dark magic that will get you hurt.”

“It’s not dark magic. It will get rid of the barrier around town,” Mr. Pines said.

“A barrier that _you_ formed with your portal!”

“Please don’t fight, guys,” Robbie said. “Can we go inside? I think my feet will fall off if we stay out here.”

“Yes, let’s go inside,” Mr. Pines said.

Dad looked between Mr. Pines and Robbie. “I can’t let you in,” he said, his voice taking on an edge of desperation.

“Then I’ll stay out here with them,” Robbie said, “or I’ll go with them to the Mystery Museum. Come on, Dad. Let’s just go inside.”

A tense moment passed, and Dad stared at Mr. Pines with a hesitancy that finally broke into resignation. “Fine,” he said. He turned and headed for the door.

“Thanks, Mr. Corduroy,” Dipper said, following on Greg’s heels. “Sorry about leaving you at the UFO.”

Greg glanced down at Dipper but didn’t say anything.

Robbie and Mr. Pines followed them. “Are you going to be okay, Mr. Pines?” asked Robbie. “You won’t get angry or anything?”

“I’m plenty angry,” Mr. Pines said thinly. “But I won’t get violent.”

On the front porch, Greg knocked on the door. “Janice,” he called.

“I’ll grab the spare key,” Robbie said.

“No,” Greg said immediately. “We are _not_ going to show them how to get into our house.”

The front door opened a bit, and Janice stuck her head out cautiously. “Greg? Where’s Robbie?”

“Right here,” Robbie said as he climbed the porch stairs. “We’re coming back inside with Mr. Pines and Dipper.”

“What? No,” Mom said. “No way.”

“It’s either that or losing Robbie,” Dad said heavily. “We’ll just. . . talk.” He sent a glance over his shoulder at Mr. Pines.

“Yes. Just talk,” Mr. Pines agreed.

Mom’s hand went up to her bruise. “After what you’ve done to us?”

“I could say the same to you,” Mr. Pines replied. The anger in his voice was barely contained.

“Great, we’ve established that both parties have done bad things to the other side,” Robbie said. “So we don’t need to talk about it anymore. Let’s go in.”

Mom looked warily to Mr. Pines. “Do you have any weapons, Stanford?”

Dipper glanced at his uncle. “Yeah, he has some knockout patches. Did you bring Grunkle Lee’s brass knuckles, too, Grunkle Ford?”

Mr. Pines pulled some white wrapped squares from his pocket and, after a moment, handed them to Robbie. “You can hold on to those, Robbie. But the knuckles stay with me,” he said stiffly.

“No,” Mom and Dad said at the same time.

“He won’t use them,” Robbie said, sticking the knockout patches in his pocket. “Can we _please_ go inside already?” He was freezing. Why did adults always take so long?

Mom glared at Mr. Pines, but she moved aside. “Just because you didn’t have the brass knuckles on when you punched me yesterday doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she said.

“Yes, well, you’re lucky I forgot them in my anger,” Mr. Pines said as he, Greg, Dipper, and Robbie stepped into the house.

Robbie moved to the hallway entrance. “Can I go change into warm, dry socks, or will you all start fighting each other without me?” he asked. He felt like he was responsible for keeping the peace, which wasn’t cool, considering that there were three supposedly mature adults with him.

“I’ll watch them,” Dipper said.

Dad didn’t look assured by this, but he nodded. “I’ll grab some, too,” he said. “Janice, will you close the back door?”

“I already did,” she said.

Robbie and Dad went to their respective rooms and peeled off their wet socks. Robbie grabbed a towel from the bathroom to dry his feet, then put on a pair of warm (dry) winter socks. He headed to the living room, where he was glad to see that Mr. Pines, Dipper, and Mom were all seated on the couch, and nobody had exploded or anything.

“I thought you would be at the Order,” Mr. Pines was saying to Janice when Robbie walked in. “With Lee.”

“You thought you’d be able to sneak in and corrupt our son even further?” she replied.

“Mom, stop,” said Robbie. “That’s not what he said.” He sat down next to her on the couch.

“Why aren’t you there?” asked Mr. Pines.

“Because Lord Cipher warned us that you’d come today,” Janice said. “He knows all.”

Robbie perked up. “Lord Cipher? Is that the Cipher guy that June was talking about?”

Mr. Pines looked to him sharply. “June?”

“Yeah, June,” Robbie said. “Or Juniper. She’s a hamadryad I talked to yesterday.”

“I. . . I know that name,” Mr. Pines said. “I’ve talked to her before.”

“She told me that the barrier goes all the way around town. And the forest. It’s like a dome, or maybe a sphere, and it’s trapping us all inside.” That was scary enough, but it wasn’t what Robbie wanted to talk about. “She also mentioned someone named Bill Cipher. She said I was part of something called the Cipher Wheel.”

“That’s what we came to talk to you about,” Dipper said. “We’re on the Cipher Wheel, too. Bill is—”

“ _I’ll_ explain Lord Cipher,” Greg said as he came back into the room. “We didn’t want to, but if anyone does, it’s going to be me.”

Robbie didn’t want his dad’s explanation. “One sec. I remember you mentioning his name, Dip, after Mabel got possessed. He’s the demon that possessed her, right?”

“Yeah,” Dipper said. “Mabel and I first met him on the camping trip with you. We followed him into your mind and stopped him from getting information.”

Robbie blinked. He remembered Dipper saying something like that after Mabel got possessed, but he’d forgotten about it. “You went into my head?”

“You didn’t stop him from doing anything,” Greg said to Dipper. “Robbie didn’t have the information, and Lord Cipher knew that. He just took the job to see how you and your sister would react.”

Robbie turned on his dad. “You _knew_ that there was a demon in my head?”

“Cipher told us about it afterward,” Greg said. “But he’s always in our heads, Robs. He sees the minds of everyone in town. It’s how he can warn us about things, like Stanford coming here today.”

“That’s why the Order followed us to the UFO,” Mr. Pines said. “Cipher sent them after us.” 

“Why did he possess Mabel?” Robbie asked.

“He was trying to destroy the third Journal so that we couldn’t open the portal,” Dipper said.

“The point is, Robbie, that the Cipher Wheel is our only chance to defeat him,” said Mr. Pines. “There are ten people who are a part of it, and you’re one of them.”

“It’s dark magic,” Greg said. “Lord Cipher is imprisoned here, Robbie, in Gravity Rises. Evil people trapped him thousands of years ago, and he’s on his way to escaping. But the Cipher Wheel spell is built to destroy him. Its magic would strip away his power until there was almost nothing left. That kind of destructive magic is dangerous to everyone involved.”

Robbie frowned. “Isn’t wiping people’s memories also destructive magic?”

“We don’t destroy the memories,” Janice said. “The amulet hides them, and it’s hard to recall them. But it doesn’t destroy them completely.”

“That’s not much of a difference,” Mr. Pines muttered. Janice glared at him, but he continued, “By the way, Robbie, this is why Gideon can’t wipe you with his amulet. Those of us on the Cipher Wheel are protected from his magic.”

Robbie nodded slowly. “That’s why you wanted me to join you at the Order,” he said to his parents. “So I wouldn’t want to fight this Cipher guy.”

“I guess you could say that,” Greg said. “We could always use more help, too.”

Robbie did his best to ignore the feeling of disgust and anger that came with the thought of helping the Order. “You said earlier that this Cipher Wheel thing would get rid of the barrier around town?” he asked Mr. Pines.

He nodded. “The barrier formed when Fiddleford came out of the portal. It means all ten Symbols — the people on the Cipher Wheel — are in town. Either the Cipher Wheel forms and defeats Bill, or Cipher escapes his prison and gains enough power to destroy entire civilizations at a whim. This town and forest would almost certainly be the first place he targeted.”

“What? That’s not it at all,” Greg said. “Lord Cipher was wrongfully imprisoned. When he gets free, he’ll be able to help people in ways that he can’t in his prison. Those in the Order of the Crescent Eye will receive great rewards.”

“Oh, so you’re doing all this because you’re greedy?” Robbie asked.

“No!” Greg protested. “No, we’re trying to help someone who needs it! I know we sent you to the forest to talk to the hamadryads, Robbie, but they’re helping to keep him oppressed. The creatures in the forest are his wardens. They fear that he’ll get free and break up their power.”

“Then why do you wipe everybody’s memories?” Robbie asked. “You worry about people killing the supernatural creatures out of fear. If the creatures are so bad, why wouldn’t you let people fight them?”

“It’s a tricky balance,” Janice admitted. “We need to keep everyone safe — both humans and supernatural creatures. If humans started fighting against the other species, it could start a terrible conflict that would pit human weapons against supernatural magic. We do our best to keep both sides away from that kind of conflict, but we also do what we can to help Lord Cipher escape his prison.”

At this point, Robbie’s head was spinning. How could his parents hold such conflicting ideas in their heads without going insane? Was the Order trying to fight against the supernatural creatures of the forest or trying to keep them safe? Why would Robbie’s parents help anyone that could be labelled a demon, as this Bill Cipher was?

There was a short, tense silence as Robbie tried to digest all of this. When he’d first learned about the Order, he’d only known about the memory wiping part. Now there was a demon thrown into the mix, too? A demon that had lured Mabel and Dipper into Robbie’s head?

What had the twins seen in there, anyway? Robbie felt violated. It didn’t help that he’d felt the same way yesterday, when he’d followed June into a magical tree so that she could see, through his memories, what the situation was at the edge of town. He had been hesitant, but June had said that it would be faster than him trying to explain. That was when she’d told him that he was part of the Cipher Wheel: She’d somehow seen it when he was inside her tree.

“Robbie? You okay?” Dad asked.

Robbie glanced up at him. “I guess,” he said slowly, “that I don’t get why you’d want to help a demon. Especially one that possessed a little girl.”

Greg was quiet. Dipper nodded and added in a subdued tone, “Mabel still has nightmares from it all. Bill likes to torment her. It’s awful.”

“He’s targeting Gideon Northwest, too,” Mr. Pines said. “Gideon is staying at the Museum, and Bill sent him nightmares all night last night as punishment for telling us about my brother.”

“Gideon helped you find Stanley?” Robbie asked.

“Yeah,” said Dipper. “He risked a lot to help us.”

Well, Gideon Northwest certainly was not Robbie’s favorite person, but that was good to hear. Robbie looked to his mom. “Did you know that this Cipher guy was sending nightmares to people?”

Mom hesitated. “Not really,” she said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that we trust Lord Cipher’s judgment,” Greg said. “I don’t want anyone to have nightmares or anything like that. But maybe Cipher has a reason.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “A reason?” Dipper jumped to his feet. As he spoke, his face hardened until he looked angrier than Robbie had ever seen him. “If Bill has a _reason_ for torturing my sister, then it’s only to terrify her. There’s _no_ good reason to hurt Mabel like that — or Gideon, or anyone. Bill has given me a couple nightmares, too, and it’s never _helped_ me or whatever you guys believe in the Order. And it definitely doesn’t help Mabel, either!”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dad said. “I just meant that—”

“You just meant that you choose to overlook how terrible Bill is!” interrupted Dipper. “You want to believe that he’ll help you, when really he’s just pulling you along and laughing at how gullible you are! I’ve been trying to understand what you Order members are thinking, I really have, and I can kinda see why you’re okay with wiping people’s memories. But helping _Bill_? He’s evil, and it’s hard to believe that his followers aren’t!”

“Calm down,” Mom said. “We don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But you’re okay with standing aside while a demon does?” Dipper demanded. “You’re okay with Gaston and his servants showing up at the Museum and threatening to hurt us? You’re okay with Pacifica trying to _kill_ my sister?!”

“Wait, what?” said Robbie.

“When the Order kidnapped Mabel, Pacifica was going to murder her!” yelled Dipper. “Bill stopped it, because he needs his Symbols alive, but it was Order members that kidnapped Mabel! It was Order members that chained her to the freaking wall! It could’ve been your parents, Robbie!”

“We were there when Lord Cipher ordered Pacifica not to hurt her,” Mom countered. “He saved her.”

“ _Saved_ her?! He didn’t stop Pacifica from kidnapping her! He didn’t stop her from torturing her until we got there!”

“We wouldn’t have let anyone get hurt,” Dad said.

“But you _did_! And you guys hurt Ford later, when we came back to get the first Journal! You dragged him and Mabel to Pacifica, and she was going to shoot them with the memory gun!”

“We weren’t there that night,” Mom said quietly.

“And would you have stopped the others if you were?” Dipper demanded.

Mom and Dad opened their mouths, then closed them again without saying anything. It was clear that the answer to Dipper’s question was no, but they couldn’t bring themselves to say it. Uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

“I doubt it,” Mr. Pines finally said. “They were certainly ready to fight us at the UFO.”

Robbie stared at his parents in horror. “Dipper. . . did all that really happen?” he asked without looking at the other boy.

“It did,” said Dipper, “and Mabel’s been traumatized ever since. I guess. . . I guess I have been, too.”

Robbie could hardly process this information. He knew that his parents took part in kidnapping people and wiping their memories. That was pretty bad in and of itself, but that was as far as Robbie had known, at least until the whole situation with the portal. He hadn’t known about any demon, and he definitely hadn’t known that his parents were almost accomplices to _murder_.

Mom and Dad were both looking at Robbie with pleading, guilty looks. They didn’t try to defend themselves — which scared Robbie, because they usually had a whole pile of excuses. “Well,” Robbie finally said to the Pines, “I can see why you want to stop Cipher.”

Mr. Pines let out a breath. “Yes. We want to stop him from hurting us more than he already has — and from hurting anyone else. Will you help us, Robbie?”

“Robbie,” Mom said. She put her hand on Robbie’s arm. “Robbie, please. Don’t get involved in this.”

Robbie pulled his arm away. “Or what? You’ll send Cipher after me, too?”

“We don’t send Cipher anywhere,” Dad said. “He does what he wants.”

“Yeah, like tormenting my sister,” Dipper said sullenly. His anger had subsided a bit, but he still glared at Robbie’s parents.

“He. . . yes, he’ll probably try to stop you if you help fight against him,” Mom admitted to Robbie. “I don’t — I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Everyone in this town is in danger of getting hurt,” Mr. Pines pointed out. “Every single one of us. The sooner we form the Cipher Wheel, the sooner we can get out of that danger.”

Robbie believed him. He still wasn’t entirely happy with Mr. Pines, since the man had recently hurt both of Robbie’s parents; but neither was he happy with his parents. Not if they had hurt Mabel. Not if they followed a demon.

“We need to go talk to Wendy, too,” Dipper said. “She’s the last person on the Cipher Wheel who doesn’t know about it. We were hoping you would come with us, Robbie. She’ll probably listen to you.”

“You’re not leaving, Robbie,” Mom said immediately. “We won’t let you go.”

“Then I’ll run away,” Robbie threatened. His gaze softened. “I can’t. . . I can’t trust you, Mom. The Pines sound like they have the right idea with the Cipher Wheel.”

“It won’t work,” Dad said. “Even if you join them, Robs, it won’t work. Lincoln and Pacifica are both on the Wheel, but they follow Lord Cipher. They won’t join you.”

Mr. Pines sucked in a breath. “Lee wants to join us. We have to figure out how, but we will. And he’s going to talk to Pacifica.”

“It won’t work,” Dad repeated.

Robbie took a breath. “Then we’ll make it work,” he said. “I’m going to help them.”

“Robs—”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” Robbie said. “I’m going with them to talk to Wendy, and then. . .” He glanced between his parents. “And then I hope you’ll let me come back,” he said quietly.

Mom reached out to him. “Of course we will,” she said, emotion in her voice. She wrapped her arms around him.

Robbie leaned against her shoulder. His throat felt tight, and he closed his eyes. “You won’t try to stop me?”

“I want to.” Mom held him close. “I want to keep you safe in my arms forever.”

“But we’re not safe,” Robbie whispered. “It sounds like we won’t be safe until we stop Cipher.”

“We won’t be,” Mr. Pines said softly.

“You’re not safe fighting against him, either,” Dad said.

“Better to fight than to sit back and let him destroy everything we love,” Mr. Pines replied. He got to his feet. “Let’s go, Robbie.”

Robbie glanced up at him. Mom held all the tighter to Robbie, but he gently pushed her away and stood up. Dad, who had been standing behind the couch, came around to give Robbie a hug. “I feel like I’m losing you,” Dad said.

That tight feeling came back. Robbie struggled to speak. “Then you know how I feel,” he said. “About you and Mom and the Order.”

Robbie pulled back, and he saw the pained expression on his dad’s face. But Greg didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to go grab my coat and boots,” Robbie said. He went to his room and bundled up to go outside. No more wet socks for him. His feet were still feeling cold from his impromptu run in the snow.

He returned to a quiet living room, where none of the inhabitants would meet each other’s eyes. The atmosphere was heavy, and even Dipper looked subdued.

“I’ll be back soon,” Robbie told his parents. “If you don’t try to stop me from helping with the Cipher Wheel, then I’ll come back.”

His parents looked pained, but they nodded. “Be safe,” Mom said.

“Just to Wendy’s house and back, right?” Robbie asked Mr. Pines.

“Yes,” he said. “And you’ll have to tell me more about your conversation with June on the way.”

“Okay.” Robbie went with Mr. Pines and Dipper to the door. Mom and Dad followed them; Robbie glanced back, and they looked like they wanted to rush forward and pull Robbie back. But they didn’t.

“Dipper, I. . .” Greg looked guiltily to the floor. “I’m sorry that we kidnapped Mabel.”

Dipper and Mom both looked at him in surprise. “Oh. . . thanks,” said Dipper.

“Ready, Robbie?” asked Mr. Pines.

Robbie glanced back at his parents again. “I guess so,” he said.

“Come back,” Dad said. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Robbie said. Ford opened the door, and Robbie stepped out. It was still cold outside, but it was much more bearable in a coat and boots than in a sweater and socks.

Mom and Dad hung in the doorway, conflicting emotions painting their expressions. Robbie looked back at them one last time before heading down the front porch steps with Dipper and Mr. Pines.

“Okay,” Robbie said. “Let’s go talk to Wendy.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ford and Dipper didn’t get back to the Mystery Museum until dark. That wasn’t good: Ford had wanted to go out into the forest today. More so now that Robbie had told them about his encounter with June. Ford’s memories of the hamadryad were hazy, as his memories from the early eighties often were, but he had a feeling that she was important. He wanted to find her and talk to her again.

But he wouldn’t be able to go out in the dark. The conversation with Wendy had taken longer than expected: Even with Robbie there, the girl had largely refused to listen to them. Robbie had claimed afterward that Wendy was scared, but Ford thought she was just being obstinate.

Ford and Dipper had sent Robbie back to his parents. Ford was worried that the Corduroys would try to keep Robbie away from the Pines, as they had earlier, but Robbie was unwilling to abandon his parents. Even after he found out about Bill and some of the darker parts of the Order, Robbie didn’t want to leave Greg and Janice. Ford had to respect that — and he would have to hope that the Corduroys wouldn’t get in Robbie’s way.

As Ford stepped into the Museum and took off his coat, a sudden weariness overcame him. The day wasn’t over, despite the deceiving darkness; yet it had been such an emotionally exhausting day that Ford could hardly think of doing anything besides eating dinner and crawling into bed.

Gideon and Mabel were in the living room — Gideon sitting on the couch, Mabel laying on the floor, each with a Journal in front of them. They looked up when Ford and Dipper entered. “How’d it go?” Mabel asked. “Are they going to join us?”

“Robbie will,” Dipper said. “His parents don’t like it, but I don’t think they’ll stop him. Wendy, though. . . well, she didn’t like what we had to say. I don’t think she wants anything to do with us, much less the Cipher Wheel.”

“Robbie said he’d keep trying to convince her,” Ford said.

“Why won’t the Corduroys try to stop Robbie?” asked Gideon.

“I think they’re starting to feel guilty,” Dipper said. “I may have, um, yelled at them. For helping Pacifica kidnap Mabel.”

“Let’s hope they’re feeling guilty,” Ford said. “Let’s hope they start to see reason.”

“I don’t know about the likelihood of that,” Gideon said. “But I’m glad Robbie’s with us.”

“Is Melody with Fidds?” asked Ford.

Mabel’s eyes lit up. “Yeah. He woke up earlier. Melody said he sat up and had a conversation with her before he fell back to sleep.”

“He did?” said Dipper. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Mabel said. “He said he wanted to talk to you, Grunkle Ford, when he could. Melody said he seemed really sorry about. . . about what he did to Grunkle Lee.”

A knot of anger tightened in Ford’s chest. “I see,” he said. He knew that they had to nurse Fiddleford back to health so that he could join them in the Cipher Wheel — but otherwise, Ford had no desire to ever see the man again. Just thinking about him made Ford so angry and sad that he could hardly think at all.

“Melody should be out soon to start dinner,” Mabel said, trying to change the subject when she saw Ford’s expression turn ugly. “Until then, Grunkle Ford, can Gideon and I talk to you? We’ve been looking through the Journals, and we have some ideas.”

Dipper glanced at Gideon. “Is it everything you dreamed of, having all three Journals?” He finished taking off his coat and snow boots and flopped on the ground next to Mabel.

“I guess so,” Gideon said. “I really only needed the first.”

“Did you find what you were looking for, then?” asked Ford. He came over and sat on the couch next to the Northwest.

Gideon and Mabel shared a glance. “Yeah, I did,” Gideon said.

He didn’t seem to want to share much else. Ford hadn’t gotten a chance to reread the entire first Journal yet, and he wondered what Gideon had found in there. But he let the subject go for the moment. “What ideas did you two have?”

“About the supernatural creatures,” Gideon said. “We could use a magical healer for Fiddleford, and we need all the information we can get about how to break Bill’s connection with Lincoln. So Mabel and I looked through the Journals to see what creatures we should look for specifically. Melody said that Lincoln suggested the nymphs, and there’s this entry in the second Journal — look.” Mabel handed Gideon the second Journal, and he flipped through it. “Here,” he said. “You wrote an entry about a hamadryad named Juniper.”

There she was again. It was as if the universe were screaming at Ford to go find her. “Robbie met Juniper just yesterday,” Ford said. “She told him that the barrier at the edge of town goes around the whole forest. It’s a big dome.”

“So we’re really trapped in here?” Mabel asked. She sounded unsurprised but still scared.

“I’m afraid so,” Ford said.

“We have time,” Gideon assured her. “You said your school doesn’t start again until the fourteenth, right?”

“Yeah, our winter break is a whole month,” Dipper said. “It means we have a shorter summer, though.”

“We’re supposed to leave town on the twelfth,” Mabel said. “That’s only six days from now. Do you think we can form the Wheel by then, Grunkle Ford?”

“I. . . I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we’ll keep working for it. We officially have seven Symbols on our side. We just have to convince Wendy, Fiddleford, and Pacifica. And figure out a way for Lee to join us.”

Mabel lowered her head onto her arms. “That’s so much,” she said, her voice muffled.

“It’ll be okay,” Dipper said. “It sounds like the next step is to go see Juniper the hamadryad.”

“Agreed,” Ford said. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

“All of us?” asked Mabel.

“Sure,” Ford said.

“Can we go see the minotaurs, too?” said Dipper. “Andrew seemed like he knew stuff about the Cipher Wheel.”

Mabel raised her head to look at her brother. “You just want to see Andrew again.”

“Well, yeah. He’s cool.”

“Let’s start with June,” Ford said. “It might be a good idea to see the minotaurs, too. I think. . .” He frowned as a memory flashed through his mind. A feeling of acceleration. Glimpses of colors. Dizziness. “I think I remember traveling through the trees with June,” he said. As soon as he said the words, he felt that they were right. “The hamadryads share a network of trees, and they can transport humans through them. June might be able to get us to the minotaurs quickly.”

“Perfect!” said Dipper.

Ford smiled absently at Dipper, but his thoughts were still trying to parse out his memories of June. Why was he still having trouble remembering his past? He had all three Journals back, even if he hadn’t read through all of them yet. He’d found Stanley and Fiddleford, too. Surely his memories should come back to him easily now.

His smile slipped into a frown. There was still a major hole in his memories, though. He may not want to see Fiddleford again, but Ford had to find out what exactly had happened all those years ago. He needed to know how Fiddleford had ended up in Bill’s dimension and Stanley had ended up at the Order.

Stanley. What was he doing now? Was he talking to Pacifica about the Cipher Wheel? Had Bill left his body for the day? What had they found in the Order library?

“Grunkle Ford?” asked Mabel, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m trying to remember exactly how I knew June. I wrote about her in the second Journal, but there was something else that happened later. Something big. I can’t quite remember.”

“You still have holes?” Dipper sounded as disappointed as Ford felt.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Ford said. “I think I’ve remembered most everything up until 1982. That entire year is fuzzy, but something important happened with June partway through.”

“What would help you remember?” Gideon asked.

“There’s usually a trigger,” Ford said. “I’ll have to ask Fidds exactly how he made me forget, but I was probably shot by some kind of prototype of the memory gun that didn’t destroy anything, just covered it up. Seeing something from the past — like my Journals, or the portal — brings back some memories.”

“Would going to see June work as a trigger?” Mabel asked.

“Definitely,” Ford said. “She could probably tell me herself, too.”

“Then we’ll go tomorrow,” Dipper declared. “Family trip!”

Gideon quietly took the first Journal, which was between him and the arm of the couch, and opened it on his lap. He started flipping through it.

“What are you looking for?” Ford asked.

Gideon glanced up at him. “Um. . . there’s somewhere else I want to try to visit tomorrow. I’m just checking if it’s anywhere near June’s tree.”

“Maybe I can help. What is it?”

Ford could tell that Gideon was hesitant to share. Finally, the boy sighed and turned pages until he stopped on a page with a map, a block of text, and a detailed sketch of a flower. “The Northwest’s Relief,” read the title.

“Here,” Gideon said. “There was what I was looking for. There’s a note about it in your second Journal, and I wanted to read about it in the first.”

Ford skimmed the entry. The memories came back as he read. “Right. I remember the Northwest’s Relief.”

“The what?” Dipper said.

“The Northwest’s Relief,” Mabel said. “It’s a flower. Gideon was looking for it when we overheard him talking to the fairies, remember?”

Dipper thought about it. “Wow. That seems so long ago.”

“It was, in our perspective,” Ford said. He still hadn’t quite wrapped his brain around the idea of the time bubble — the magic that had crammed weeks and months into the space of January fifth. The time bubble had popped — it was now January sixth — yet to those in Gravity Rises, it felt like it should be February or March, based on how much time had passed within the bubble. 

“Is this location anywhere near Juniper’s tree?” Gideon asked, pointing to the map on the Journal page. “Do you know?”

“Hand me the second Journal,” Ford instructed. Gideon complied, and Ford opened the Journal to the page with directions to June’s tree. He looked between the two Journals, trying to form a picture in his head of where the two different locations were. “I don’t think they’re near each other,” he finally said. “We can ask June, though.”

“No, it’s okay,” Gideon said, though he sounded disappointed. “It’s a personal project. We shouldn’t let it get in the way of forming the Cipher Wheel.”

“Maybe if we have time,” Ford said. Now that he’d seen the entry on the Northwest’s Relief, he remembered his old desire to harvest the flowers and use them in medicinal developments. He wondered if that would be a feasible goal.

But, as Gideon said, the Cipher Wheel was more important. They could worry about personal projects later.

Ford glanced down at the first Journal again. “Do you know why it’s called the Northwest’s Relief?” he asked Gideon. “I never figured that out.”

Gideon glanced at Mabel. “I can guess,” he said, “but I’d rather not share.”

Ford frowned. Well, he wouldn’t push. What was it that Gideon didn’t want to share, though? Why had he looked to Mabel?

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Melody stepped into the entryway. “Welcome back, boys,” she said. “How’d it go?”

“Robbie’s with us,” Dipper said. “Wendy needs a bit more time, but hopefully Robbie can bring her around.”

Melody nodded. “Were Greg and Janice there when you went?” she asked.

“They were,” Ford said. “Robbie managed to diffuse the situation before things got too heated. And he somehow convinced them not to stop him from helping us.”

“It’s so confusing,” Dipper said. “The Corduroys seem like good people, but they’re helping Bill. I don’t get it.”

Melody nodded again, this time sadly. “Even good people can do bad things if they’re misinformed,” she said.

Dipper glanced to Mabel. “I did get an apology from Greg, though,” he said. “For kidnapping you back at the Northwest party.”

Mabel looked startled. “Oh. Um, that’s good, I guess.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really know how to react either.”

“Well, I’ll get dinner on,” Melody said. “Ford, did Mabel and Gideon tell you about Fidds waking up?”

“They did,” Ford said. “Was it just the one time?”

“So far,” Melody said. “But he seemed a lot healthier than I expected. I think he’ll recover.” Her tone was optimistic.

“The kids and I are going to go see a hamadryad friend of mine tomorrow,” Ford said. “We’ll ask her about Fidds.”

Melody put her hands together. “Oh, good. I’ll make a list of questions for you to take.” With that, she disappeared into the kitchen to start on dinner.

Ford watched her go, then leaned his head against the back of the couch. “I’m so tired,” he said. “I hope I make it through dinner.”

“If you fall asleep, I’ll make sure you don’t drown in your mashed potatoes,” Dipper said solemnly.

“Is Melody making mashed potatoes tonight?”

“I dunno, that was just the first thing I thought of.”

A knock sounded at the door.

The Pines and Gideon exchanged confused glances. “I’ll go check who it is,” Dipper said.

“Okay, but don’t open the door until I say so,” Ford said. They couldn’t trust anyone who came to their door these days.

Dipper got up and headed to the door, peering out the diamond-shaped window. “Oh, the porch light’s not on yet,” he said. He flicked a switch behind the coatrack.

The porch light snapped on, and Ford thought he heard a muffled yelp of surprise. “Who’s there, Dipper?” Ford asked.

Dipper looked out the window again. “Uh, Gideon,” he said. “He looks like one of your dad’s servants.”

“What?” Gideon stood up from the couch and joined Dipper at the window. “It’s Marcus,” Gideon said in surprise. “What’s he doing here?”

“Don’t ask me.”

Gideon glanced back at Ford. “I’m going to open the door,” he said.

“Is it just the one person?” Ford asked.

“As far as I can tell.”

“Then go ahead, I guess,” Ford said. If Gideon thought it was safe, then it probably was.

Gideon opened the door. “Hello,” he said. There was a wary tinge to his voice. “Do you need something?”

“I brought clothes for you,” Ford heard the servant say, “and some other supplies for your stay here.”

“Oh,” Gideon said, even more surprised. “Thank you.”

“Lord Cipher must really want you out of the way,” the servant said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “He sent me. But he also wanted me to remind you that you’re here by his pleasure.”

Gideon’s voice stiffened. “I didn’t need the reminder.”

“He apparently thought you did. May I?” Gideon moved aside, and Ford could see as the uniformed servant lifted a small suitcase into the house. Then he bowed to Gideon, and his dull red hair glinted in the porch light. “Have a good evening.” He turned to go.

“Marcus,” said Gideon. The servant stopped and turned back. “Is this a trick?”

“Not that I’m aware,” the servant replied. “It seems Cipher is content to keep the punishment to your dreams this time.” He gave another little bow. “Good night.”

Then he left.

Gideon closed the door and looked down at the suitcase. His expression was a mixture of suspicion and befuddlement.

“Well, that was weird,” Dipper said. He peeked out the door window. “He’s really leaving.”

“I thought he’d try to take me back,” Gideon said. Now that the servant had left, Ford could see traces of residual fear in Gideon’s face. The boy was quite good at hiding such emotions — Ford was almost jealous, to tell the truth.

Mabel, having stood up when Gideon opened the door, now moved to his side. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “You’re safe.”

“And now you can use your own pajamas,” Dipper said.

“Is it strange that I’m worried it’ll explode if I open it?” Gideon asked, nudging the suitcase with his foot.

“Not in the least,” Ford said. “If you want, we can take it out in the yard to open it.” He was mostly joking, but he spoke seriously.

“I think it’s fine,” Gideon said. “Explosions aren’t really my father’s style.” He pulled on a zipper. It moved smoothly down its track. “Huh. Really does look like clothes and such.”

“That’s good, right?” said Mabel. “It means you’re really staying here.”

“Yeah,” Gideon said. “Yeah, I am.” The hint of relief in his voice told Ford that he was probably feeling ecstatic.

“You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need,” Melody said from the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Gideon said. He glanced at Mabel and Dipper. “I probably shouldn’t sleep in the attic, though. I don’t want to keep you up again.”

“I’ll take the air mattress in the attic,” Ford offered. “You can have the couch.” Even as he said it, his sore joints protested at the thought of going up the stairs. Well, he’d just deal with it — he needed to get into better shape after his injuries, anyway.

“Thanks,” Gideon said. “Hopefully I won’t wake anybody up from here.”

“Are you sure you’ll be good going up the stairs, Ford?” asked Melody.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll probably have to do more than just go up some stairs if we really are going to fight against Cipher.”

“Okay,” said Melody. Ford couldn’t see her face, but her voice sounded like she knew how little he was looking forward to using the stairs.

“It’s not like I haven’t been using the basement stairs for the past few weeks,” he muttered to himself.

Before long, dinner was ready. There were no mashed potatoes for Ford to drown in, but his tiredness weighed on him through the meal. “I need to go to sleep after this,” he said around a yawn.

“Good plan,” Melody agreed.

After dinner, Ford went with Melody to his room to get his pajamas and things. He gathered the clothes in his arms. “May I take my pillow?” he asked, glancing to the bed. There was really only one pillow that didn’t cramp his neck. And Fiddleford was currently lying on it.

Melody shook her head. “I don’t know if he has any infectious diseases. We shouldn’t risk it.”

Ford sighed loudly. “Fine.”

Melody found him the best pillow she could, and he finished getting ready for bed. Then he took the dreaded trip up the stairs, and it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared — though it was concerning that he disliked climbing stairs even while he did things like sneaking into the Order headquarters and trekking through the forest with minotaurs.

Just another strange part of being old, he supposed.

He settled onto the uncomfortable air mattress with his uncomfortable pillow and couldn’t help but think unpleasant thoughts toward Fiddleford. The man had done terrible things; and now, to top it all off, he got to steal Ford’s room? When Ford was this tired, that seemed like the greatest injustice of all.

It wasn’t long before his thoughts slipped from Fiddleford to June. The living room light shone up the stairs and gave Ford blurry shadows to watch as he thought. Juniper. She was a hamadryad with long auburn hair and a cheerful, albeit somewhat mischievous, smile. Her tree was in the middle of the leprecorn habitat, and Ford was always hesitant to visit her because of that. He smiled to himself as he recalled how she scolded him for avoiding her and her “babies.”

He remembered the general idea of her. That was good. But he still couldn’t remember the other part. The big thing she had been a part of.

Eventually, he fell asleep, deciding that he didn’t have to remember tonight. He would find out tomorrow.

~~~~~

Caleb moved through the twilight. Yingtai probably wouldn’t be to their sanctuary for some time, but Caleb wanted to go a little early. He wanted to talk to Bill Cipher.

He found the sanctuary easily in the dim light, and he sat down on a log at the edge of the clearing. He’d contacted Cipher from this same spot last night, and he was grateful that he could do it from anywhere. Humans needed to perform an elaborate summoning spell or else wait for Cipher to appear in their dreams — but not minotaurs. They, and most other creatures in the forest, had a much easier time of contacting the demon when they wanted to.

Caleb murmured the incantation to himself. The words were from some old dialect of the native minotauran language, and they translated to something like, “Let me slip into the space between dreams.” When Caleb finished saying the words, the shadows of the twilight — which were already lacking in color — turned fully greyscale. The change was subtle, but Caleb recognized it from experience. “Bill Cipher,” he called out.

It wasn’t long before Cipher appeared in a yellow flash. His light illuminated the otherwise-dim area. “What did you **find out**?” the triangle asked.

“The dagger is in a cave not too far from the minotaur boundaries. If you follow the cliff line from the western boundary, it’s the second cave that you come across. I remember thinking that the cave opening looks almost like a triangle,” Caleb added, “so that might help you find it. Also, Andrew is leaving at midday tomorrow to go talk with the brownies about reconstruction. The village is still in chaos from the anomalies, and I don’t think they’ll leave anyone to guard the dagger. It would be a good time to come get it.”

“ **Wonderful** ,” Cipher said. “I’ll bring **Lincoln** , the human that I can **possess** **at will**. **Whatever happens** , though, do **not** reveal yourself to him. I can **possess** him, but he’ll use **any** opportunity he can to work **against** me. He **can’t know** that you’re on my side, or he might reveal that to **Andrew** before we’re ready. **Sound good?** ”

“Sure,” Caleb said. “Do you want me to duck out and contact you as close as I can to Andrew leaving?”

“ **Hmm**. I need **time** to get from the **Order** to your **village** in a **human body**. How **long** do you think Andrew will be?”

“A few hours at least,” Caleb said.

“I don’t want to get here too **early** ,” Cipher mused. “I think there’s a greater risk of **that** than there is of getting here **late**. **Yes** , go ahead and **contact me** when you see Andrew **leave**. Is he taking a group with him?”

“Yes, some half a dozen others,” Caleb said. “I’ll keep an eye on them and contact you again.”

“ **Good**. I can’t contact you when I’m **inside** Lincoln’s body, so we’ll have to **time this right**.” Cipher floated a little closer to Caleb. “Have you heard **anything else interesting** today?” he asked.

“I asked Andrew more about the dagger. He says it has a lot of power, but only when it’s used to cut the hands of your Symbols. Once it tastes their blood, it’ll start our journey through the dimensions. It’s definitely the object you’re looking for.”

“ **Excellent** ,” Cipher said happily. “Then that’s the **next step**. **Thank you** , Caleb, for your **help**. I’m glad to get a **confirmation**. The resources in the **Order library** were too **vague** to really be of much **use** — they don’t even mention that the object is a **dagger** , only that it can **‘mar the skin.’** Human prophets are so **annoying**.”

Caleb didn’t know about human prophets, but he found minotaur prophets annoying, himself. But at least minotaurs were clear about their prophecies. With that clarity, and with everything Andrew had shared with him over the years, Caleb was able to inform Cipher of much more than his prison guardians ever expected.

“ **Well** , unless there’s **anything else** you need to **tell** me, I’ll **be off** now,” Cipher said. “ **Contact me** tomorrow when **Andrew** leaves. Then make sure to stay **away** from the cave so that there’s **no connection** between you and my human. I **should** be able to feel if you try to contact me while I’m inside **Lincoln’s body** , even if I can’t **respond** ; I want you to try that if there’s an **emergency**. If I feel that you’re trying to contact me **after** you contact me the first time, then I’ll simply **turn around** , and we can try again **later**.”

“All right,” Caleb said.

“ **Yingtai** is almost here,” Cipher informed him. “You can tell her the **good news** , but only if she **promises** not to share it with anyone. The plan is **our secret**.” Cipher floated up higher. “ **Until tomorrow** , Caleb.”

“Until tomorrow,” Caleb said.

Bill’s light grew until Caleb had to look away; when he looked back, he was no longer in the mindscape.

He could hardly believe it. They had a plan to get the dagger. They were on their way to Bill’s dimension, where Caleb could live freely with his family. This was really happening.

A flashlight beam soon shone in the distance, and Yingtai came into the clearing. “Oh, good, you’re already here,” she said with a smile.

“Yes.” Caleb stood and embraced his wife. “I have great news. I just finished talking with Cipher.”

Yingtai’s eyes brightened. “And?”

“And it’s happening,” Caleb said. “Cipher’s going to make an attempt for the dagger tomorrow.”

“Really?” Yingtai whispered. Her voice was hopeful.

“Really,” Caleb said. He pulled Yingtai close. “By this time tomorrow, we could be on our way to our new home.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was Mabel who triggered Ford’s memory about June.

They were at the breakfast table, eating Melody’s delicious pancakes and sausage. Ford had been talking about their plans for the day: take Melody’s list of questions, pack some lunches and the Journals and whatever else they needed, and leave for Juniper’s tree. They’d get whatever answers from June that they could, and they’d ask her to take them to anyone else that could help them, including the minotaurs if there was time. And, if there was time, Gideon could also go look for the Northwest’s Relief.

Mabel was glad to know the plan, but something felt wrong. “I can’t help but worry that Bill will use this information against us somehow,” she said. Then she sighed. “Why can he see into our heads? It’s not fair.”

Ford dropped his fork.

Mabel and Dipper jumped. “What is it?” asked Gideon.

“See into our heads,” Ford repeated with wide eyes. “He can see into our heads.”

“But not yours,” Dipper said. “You have that metal plate.”

Ford’s eyes widened further. “That — that’s it.”

“What do you mean?” Mabel’s pulse quickened. She knew what this was: Ford was remembering something. Was it the thing he was trying to remember last night?

“My metal plate,” Ford said. “June was the one who told me about the metal plates! She took me someplace with other nymphs, and they put the metal plate in my head.”

Gideon leaned forward on his elbows. “It was her idea?”

“Yes. And she was the one who told me about Bill’s true nature. But. . .” He frowned. “I still don’t remember much of what she said.”

“Stanford,” said Gideon, “is there a chance that I could block Bill from my mind, too?”

Ford blinked. “We can certainly ask. In fact, we should just ask for all of you. I don’t know if they’ll be able to do it on children, but we might be able to work something out.”

“I dunno if I want a metal plate in my head,” Dipper said. “Although it would make some pretty cool drumming noises.”

“Let’s _not_ perform surgery on children, Ford,” said Melody from her position at the pancake griddle.

Ford put his hands up. “We’ll just ask what our options are. Besides, I don’t think it was surgery.”

“They got it inside of you somehow,” Melody said as she brought a new plate of pancakes to the table (from which Dipper promptly stole half the contents). “Magical surgery is still surgery in my book.”

“We’ll just ask about our options,” Ford repeated.

Mabel’s stomach flip-flopped nervously. Could she get a metal plate in her head, just like Ford? Would she be willing to get one? It would mean blocking out Bill, but was there any other option?

Calm down, Mabel, she told herself. They would find out their options later. No one was getting a metal plate until they were sure that it was the best plan.

It took Mabel, Dipper, Gideon, and Ford a few hours to prepare to leave; then, they said goodbye to Melody, donned their winter gear, and left for the forest. They went out Ford’s lab door so that nobody would see them from the road — not that it would do anything to stop Bill from seeing them, Mabel thought. But there was nothing she could do about that at the moment.

The day — January seventh — was beautiful. It was hard to believe that it was only January seventh, but Mabel suspected that the time bubble would be messing with her mind for weeks, if not months. Their clocks weren’t even correct; she had to mentally add three and a half hours whenever she looked at the time. Grunkle Lee had said that he would try to get the correct time to spread through town, but it had yet to reach the Mystery Museum. For now, Mabel would have to deal with the jolt of confusion she got whenever she looked at a clock or thought about what day it was.

The twins, Ford, and Gideon chatted as they walked through the snow. Or, Dipper chatted, and the others answered him in the appropriate breaks. Mabel wanted to start her own conversation with Gideon, but it was hard to think about any topics except the depressing and anxiety-inducing topics surrounding the Cipher Wheel or Bill’s punishment for Gideon. Mabel wanted to ask questions about Everly Grace, Gideon’s older sister, but he had clearly told her not to mention that name or ask any questions. Mabel’s curiosity on that subject was only growing, but Gideon was unlikely to budge anytime soon.

After a while, Gideon fell back by Mabel. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

Mabel looked up at him in surprise. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’ve been pretty quiet.”

“So have you,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s just how I am. I thought you’d be talking more with Dipper and Ford.”

“Well, I. . .” She forcibly told herself not to blush, but the warm feeling in her face told her that she’d failed. “I was trying to figure out how to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“That’s the problem,” she said. “All I can think of to talk about is too depressing.”

Gideon gave a short, quiet laugh. “I’m the same way,” he said, “which is why I usually don’t say anything.”

“You. . . you’re okay, too, right?” she asked. Gideon hadn’t woken Mabel up with his screaming last night; his plan to sleep on the couch had worked. At breakfast, he’d claimed he was fine after last night’s round of nightmares — and he’d clammed up when Melody had tried to ask him any more questions. Now, he seemed to be at least somewhat happy as he walked through the beautiful winter forest. But Mabel knew he was good at hiding his true feelings.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. Then he reconsidered. “Well. . . I’m scared, to tell you the truth.”

“About what June will tell us?” Mabel was scared, too. What if June couldn’t do anything to help Lee or Fiddleford or any of them? Also, it would be nice to block out Bill with a metal plate or something similar, but Mabel couldn’t bring herself to hope for it.

“It’s more the Northwest’s Relief,” Gideon said. “I’m not expecting to find it today, but. . . what if I can?”

Mabel wasn’t sure what was scary about that. If Gideon had any injuries from when he’d run away from home, he could heal them. In fact, Mabel still had some cuts from when Pacifica had kidnapped her. They were already half healed, but it’d be nice to use the gel to get rid of them.

When Gideon saw her confused expression, he looked away. “Never mind,” he said.

“No, I. . . I want to understand,” Mabel said.

He glanced back at her. “It’s fine,” he said. “Let’s just focus on finding June.” And he wouldn’t say anything more about it.

The trip had some stops and starts as Ford consulted the map in his journals (grumbling about how he had written the directions in the summer, and the forest was almost a completely different place in the winter) and redirected their course. They had left late in the morning, so they soon stopped and ate their lunch on some boulders that were nicely shielded from snow by tall trees. Then they walked some more. Finally, Ford stopped. “I think this is it.”

“Where are the leprecorns?” Dipper asked, frowning at the bare clearing in front of them.

“They’re hibernating,” said an unfamiliar female voice. A nearby tree shimmered, and a woman with auburn hair and a dress of snow-covered pine needles stepped out.

“June,” said Ford, sounding relieved.

June smiled at him. The smile was tainted with some sadness, but it was mostly a happy smile. “It’s so good to see you, Ford. It’s been a long time, even for me.” She stepped forward and ran a hand through his grey hair. “You’re so different.”

“I’ve aged, that’s all,” Ford said. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. I forgot—”

“Andrew the minotaur told me,” Juniper said. “He and I are friends. I’ve been waiting for you to visit since you showed up and asked the minotaurs for help.”

“You know Andrew?” said Dipper, his eyes lighting up. “How’s he doing?”

“He seems to be doing fine, at least for the circumstances,” June said. “He passed through here a little while ago, actually. His village needs some extensive repairs after those gravitational anomalies. He’s going to get help from the brownies.”

“We missed him?”

“You did,” June said with a sympathetic frown. “He should pass through here again when he comes back, though.” Her frown turned to a smile. “You must be Dipper. Andrew has told me about you. He likes you.”

Dipper beamed. “I like him, too.”

“And who are these two?” June asked, looking at Mabel and Gideon.

Mabel was way too nervous to talk to such a beautiful woman, so Gideon spoke for her. “I’m Gideon Northwest. This is Mabel Pines, Dipper’s sister and Stanford’s niece.”

“Northwest?” said June. “Where’s your amulet?”

Gideon scowled. “Currently unavailable,” he said.

June put up her hands. “I guess that’s a touchy subject, sorry,” she said.

“June,” said Ford, “we need your help. With — well, with a lot of things. I’m not sure where to start.”

“Start with the portal,” June said. “What happened when the portal opened?”

Ford scowled until he looked similar to Gideon. “Andrew probably told you that Stanley was on the other side of it. Well, he wasn’t. Fiddleford McGucket was.”

“Fiddleford? Your research partner?”

“Yes. I had no idea where he was. Turns out he was the one on the other side of the portal. And Stanley. . .” Ford closed his eyes. “Stanley has been at the Order. Fiddleford erased his memory entirely, and now Stan leads Cipher’s cult.”

June’s eyes went wide. “What?” she whispered.

“He doesn’t remember me,” Ford said. Mabel could tell that the words were hard for him to say. They were hard for her to hear. “He said that. . . that it felt right to him that we were brothers, but. . . but he doesn’t have any real memory of me.”

“Oh, Ford,” June said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s more,” Ford said. “He made a deal with Bill years ago that Bill could possess him whenever he wanted. Lee can get pushed out of his body at any time, and there’s nothing he can do about it. But, June, Lee is on the Cipher Wheel. We can’t form the Wheel without him, but Bill would never let him join us.”

June steepled her long fingers in front of her mouth. “Andrew said you were trying to form the Wheel.”

“We know who all the Symbols are,” Ford said. “We have six people who can and will do it with us, including the four of us here. Three more that we have to convince. And then there’s Lee. Please, June, is there _anything_ you know of that we can use to help him?”

Mabel didn’t like the look on June’s face, because it didn’t give an immediate, “Yes, I do know of something that you can use to help him.” Instead, June had a hesitant expression that looked out of place on her smooth face. “I. . . I don’t know, Ford,” she said. “Cipher’s deals are very hard to break. Do you know the exact nature of the deal?”

“I don’t know exactly what was said,” Ford answered, “but Cipher can pull Lee out of his body at any time and replace him. He doesn’t have a limit on how long he can stay, either. He threatened that he would stay inside Lee’s body forever the last time I saw him.”

June frowned. “You’ve seen Cipher?”

Ford nodded. “While he was possessing Lee. It was the first time I’d seen him in thirty years. The metal plate works — he told me so himself.”

“Well, that’s good, at least,” June said.

“Speaking of which,” Gideon said, “if we could change topics for a moment, I have a question about the metal plates. Do you think we could get them? Or something like them?” He gestured to Mabel, Dipper, and himself.

“You want metal plates in your heads, too?”

“We want some way to block Bill out,” Mabel clarified. “What are our options for that?”

June gave Mabel another hesitant look. “I don’t know,” she answered. “You’re children, aren’t you? Your brains are still growing?”

“Our brains are still developing, yes,” Gideon said. “Does that mean we can’t get metal plates?”

June shook her head. “It would stunt your growth. There would be nowhere for your brain to grow.”

“Is there any other way to block Bill out, then?” Mabel asked. She hadn’t really expected the metal plates to work out, but surely there was another option.

“Not that we know of,” June said sadly. “I’m sorry, kids.”

Gideon looked frustrated, but he didn’t looked surprised. “Okay. I figured we couldn’t do it. It was worth a shot, though.”

“What about Lee?” said Ford. “Would it help to give him a metal plate like mine? Wouldn’t it block out Bill entirely?”

June considered this. “It would probably keep Bill from accessing Lee’s mind. But if Cipher can separate Lee’s spirit from his body at any time, then the metal plate wouldn’t do anything to stop that.”

“It still sounds like an advantage,” Gideon said. “Cipher wouldn’t be able to get into his thoughts. That’s an advantage for anyone.” He still seemed disgruntled that _he_ couldn’t have that advantage, but he didn’t say as much.

“That’s true,” June said. “We could certainly try it. But I don’t think it’ll do anything to fix the possession problem; the deal would be too strong. The only way I can think of to break it is to have Cipher himself nullify it.”

“That would never happen,” Gideon said.

“No, it wouldn’t,” June agreed. “I’m sorry, Ford. I’ll keep looking for solutions, though. I’ll try to find anything I can.”

“Thank you,” Ford whispered. He looked crushed.

Mabel couldn’t help but feel the same way: They came all the way out here, and they immediately got a “no” for the metal plates and a “probably not” for Grunkle Lee? She had hoped for a little more than that. “Then how can Stanley join us in the Cipher Wheel?” she said. “There has to be a way.”

“I. . . I don’t know of any off the top of my head,” June said. “The Cipher Wheel needs ten souls — spirits plus bodies — to work. If Cipher can take Stanley’s body out of the equation, then. . . then I don’t know.” She actually looked scared.

It was terrifying to Mabel to see a magical hamadryad look scared. No. No, that couldn’t be it. They couldn’t be stopped by Bill’s stupid deal with Lee. Mabel had to get home. She had to see her parents again!

“Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?” June asked quietly.

Ford didn’t answer for a moment. Then, “Yes,” he said. “Fiddleford, another Symbol, is lying sick at my house. Or injured. Or something. We don’t know what. He came out of the portal and just collapsed. He woke up yesterday for a moment, drank some water, and had a short conversation with my nurse, Melody, but then he fell back to sleep. We have no idea what he went through in that other dimension or how to help him.” Ford took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “Melody gave me this to give to you. It’s a list of questions.”

June took the paper, opened it, and scanned its contents. “I should be able to help him,” she said after a moment. “I’d have to come to your house.”

“That’s fine,” Ford said. Mabel found it strange to think of June coming into a human building: The hamadryad belonged outside, in nature.

“Should we go now?” June said. “Or was there something else?”

“I wanted to see Andrew,” Dipper said, “but I guess it’ll have to be later.” Mabel glanced to Gideon, but he didn’t say anything about the Northwest’s Relief. Later, then.

“Are. . .” Ford cleared his throat. “Are you sure you can’t help my brother, June?”

June turned sad eyes on him. “Where is he now?”

“Down in the Order headquarters, as far as I know,” Ford said. “Cipher allowed him to stay the night with us two nights ago, but then he had to leave again. I have no idea when I’ll see him again.” His throat constricted at this last part.

“Maybe if I could see him, I could get some ideas,” June said, though she sounded doubtful. “For now, I’ll send the word out to my sisters. We’ll start looking.” She took a breath. “Do you want to travel with me back to your house?”

“Is there a tree near the Mystery Museum that you can use?” Ford asked.

“There should be,” June said. “We have some trees scattered throughout the forest that aren’t connected to a particular hamadryad, but are still part of our network. Technically, if I really tried, I could access any tree in the forest.”

“Then yes, we’ll come with you,” Ford said.

“I’ll go into my tree, tell my sisters about Stanley, and plan a path to the Museum. Wait just a moment.” June stepped toward her tree and disappeared.

There was a short silence after she left. “They’ll find something,” Dipper said. “They’ll find a way to save Grunkle Lee. They have to.”

“What happens if they don’t?” Mabel whispered.

Ford, Gideon, and Dipper all looked to her. “I’m not entirely sure,” Ford admitted. “But it can’t be good.” He took a deep breath. “We’ll just. . . have to keep looking.”

He didn’t sound very optimistic about it. Mabel tried not to let her thoughts spiral into despair, but it was hard. Would they be able to save Lee? Would they be able to get out of here? Would Mabel go home? When would Mabel’s parents even notice that something was wrong?

Dipper took her gloved hand in his. “It’ll be okay,” he said. Mabel couldn’t tell if he really believed that.

“Will we ever get home?” she asked.

“We will,” Dipper promised.

Mabel hadn’t even thought about her home since her first week here in Gravity Rises. The time bubble had made her forget what day it was, and she didn’t worry about the fact that the Mystery Museum was only supposed to be a short trip. The Museum had felt like her home; in her mind, it had almost replaced her real home.

That was scary. She’d basically forgotten about her parents, and that made this whole thing all the more terrifying. Was she in danger of forgetting them again?

June soon reappeared, which stopped Mabel from getting too far lost in her anxious thoughts. “My sisters will help you,” June told Ford. “Every hamadryad in the forest knows about Stanley, and we’ll ask anyone we can for help.”

“Thank you,” Ford said sincerely.

“I found a good route to the Museum, too,” June continued. “I should probably take one person at a time, finishing with you, Ford.”

“Are you going to teleport us?” asked Gideon.

“Sort of,” June replied. “I can travel through our network of trees and come out at different points in the forest. And I can take passengers with me.”

“Is that how you talked to Robbie a couple days ago?” said Dipper. “He said he found you somewhere else in the forest.”

“Yes, we all saw him, and we decided that I should be the one to appear and talk to him,” June said. “I found out that he was a Symbol and told him about it. Will he help you?”

Ford nodded. “Thank you for telling him about it. His parents are Order members, and it would’ve been harder to convince him if they’d told him some false story before we could get to him.”

“Will they try to stop him?”

“I’m not sure what they’ll do, but they claimed they wouldn’t,” Ford said. “We’ll have to see.”

June nodded. “Well, let’s go. Who wants to be first?”

“Ooh, me!” Dipper said.

“Careful,” Ford said, “it makes you dizzy.”

Dipper stepped forward, and June took his hand. “Ready?” she said. Dipper nodded enthusiastically, and June led him to her tree. The tree shimmered and wavered, and then June and Dipper were gone. The sudden disappearance brought a bit of panic to Mabel’s mind, but Mabel pushed it away. It’s okay, she told herself. He’s okay.

June reappeared. “Mabel?”

Mabel swallowed and stepped forward. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” June said with a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine.”

Taking Mabel’s hand in hers, June stepped into the tree.

Mabel suddenly felt as if she were on a roller coaster that was accelerating, except there was no wind in her face. Dizzying flashes of light passed by. Then, just like that, it was over. Mabel stumbled out of the new tree and into Dipper’s arms. “You good, Mabes?” he asked.

“I think so,” Mabel said, waiting for the nausea to pass. She looked around and was startled to see the Mystery Museum not too far away. June had taken them to the tree line behind the Museum.

June went back into the tree and soon came back with Gideon, then Ford. “That’s so much faster,” Ford commented. “Thank you, June.”

“Of course,” said June. She started for the Museum, and the Pines and Gideon followed. Mabel realized she hadn’t really seen June walk yet, and it was mesmerizing to watch. The hamadryad moved easily through the snow, as if it were weightless. Mabel the others had to stomp through the deep snow behind the Museum, but June seemed to be walking through normal water instead of snowdrifts.

They reached the door to Ford’s lab, which he opened with a key. “Forgive the mess,” he said. “I’ll go tell Melody that you’re here.”

“Okay,” said June, looking around the cluttered lab with an amused smile on her face. Her snowy pine needle dress looked unnatural amidst the computers and assorted gadgets. Mabel wondered if any snow or pine needles would fall off the dress, or if they magically stayed put. Probably the latter, based on how immaculate the dress looked.

Ford soon came back. “Melody’s happy that you’re here. Fidds is asleep, but she says he woke up again while we were gone.”

“That’s good,” June said. “I’ll go talk to her.”

“Head down the hall, make a right, and it’s the first door on your left,” Ford said.

June left the lab, and Mabel, Dipper, and Gideon followed not too long after her. Dipper headed straight for the kitchen to make snacks, and Mabel and Gideon settled onto the couch. “Think Fiddleford will be okay?” asked Mabel.

“June should be able to help him,” Gideon said.

“Then why. . .” Mabel’s throat closed up. “Then why can’t she help Lee?”

Gideon was quiet. “Bill’s deals are really strong,” he finally said. “I don’t know if there’s much anyone can do against them.”

“But isn’t Bill a prisoner? Shouldn’t he be weaker than this?”

“I’m pretty sure this _is_ his weakened state,” Gideon said.

That was a sobering thought. Bill had successfully terrorized both Mabel and Gideon in that “weakened state.” Mabel didn’t know what would happen if Bill escaped his prison, but she knew she didn’t want to see him with any more power than he already had.

Dipper joined Mabel and Gideon in the living room and shared his snacks with them, though Mabel wasn’t all that hungry. It was about half an hour before Ford came into the living room. “June’s about to leave,” he said. “Do you want to come see her off?”

“How’s Fidds?” asked Dipper.

“He’s going to be okay,” Ford said. “June says he just needs rest and good care. Some kind of magic kept him alive for all those years, even though he told Melody earlier that he hadn’t eaten or even moved at all.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “He just. . . sat there doing nothing? For thirty years?”

“Something like that. We’ll have to ask him when he wakes up next.”

Gideon stood up. “What magic kept him alive? Does she know?”

“She thinks it has to do with the Cipher Wheel,” Ford said. “The fact that he was a Symbol may have preserved him.”

“Wait, does that mean we can’t die?” said Dipper with wide eyes.

“I don’t know,” Ford said.

“Bill needs us alive,” Mabel said quietly. “I guess the magic is keeping us alive, too.” But for what? What was Bill going to do to them?

“Come on, let’s go say goodbye to June,” said Ford. So Dipper and Mabel got up, and they went with Gideon and Ford down the hall.

Ford took them to the lab, then opened the door that led outside. June stood in the snow, waiting for them, and she seemed unaffected by the cold. Her face brightened with a smile when she saw them. “Fiddleford is going to be fine,” she said. “He’s in good hands with Melody.”

“Thank you, June,” said Ford. “Thank you for your help.”

“Of course,” June said. “I’ll come find you again with any news about Stanley’s situation.” She put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way,” she said.

“Thank you,” Ford whispered.

June turned to the twins and Gideon. “It was wonderful to meet you all,” she said. “I’ll tell Andrew you say hi, Dipper.”

“Thanks!”

“Bye, June,” said Mabel. “It was nice to meet you.”

June waved, then left. Mabel watched her glide through the snow again before she reached the tree line and disappeared inside one of the trees.

“Wow. She’s so cool,” said Dipper.

“Yeah,” said Mabel. She closed the door and locked it.

The group turned to leave. They were halfway out of the lab when there came a sudden knocking on the lab door. It was frantic, and the sound startled Mabel.

“Is she back already?” Ford asked, sounding confused. He moved to the door and pulled it open.

Sure enough, June stood on the other side. “Stanford,” she said, “there’s a situation.”

“What’s going on?” he asked. Mabel, Dipper, and Gideon all came to the door. Mabel couldn’t think of why June would be back. It had only been a few seconds since she had disappeared into the trees. Had she already found out what they could do to help Stanley? But her face was worried.

“The minotaurs apprehended someone in their village. A human.”

“Who?” asked Ford. “Do you know?”

June glanced between the four faces in front of her. Then her eyes found Ford’s again. “It’s your brother,” she said. “Your brother was caught trying to steal something from the minotaurs.”


	6. Chapter 6

**A FEW HOURS EARLIER**

After Ford and the kids left on their trip to find June, it wasn’t long before Fiddleford woke up again.

Melody had only returned to Ford’s room a few minutes before. The house was nice and quiet, which was a lovely contrast to the loud bustle that the others had made while they got ready to go. She sat on her chair, taking a moment just to breathe.

“Melody?”

She looked up. Fiddleford’s left eye was open again, and he was watching her.

She got to her feet. “Hello again, Fiddleford,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”

He frowned. “Really hungry. And I have to use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Melody said. “Do you think you can make it to the bathroom? If not, you’re wearing an adult diaper, and I can change it for you.”

Fidds wrinkled his nose. “I want to try to make it to the bathroom,” he said.

“Okay, we’ll try.” Melody had brought a walker and other supplies for such an occasion as this. She brought the walker over to the bed. “I’ll help you sit up,” she said. “But first, do you think it would help if I gave you an eyepatch?”

Fiddleford’s right eye blinked open, then squeezed shut again. “Yes, please,” Fidds said. “There are two of you. It hurts my head.”

Melody nodded. She’d expected this, after seeing Fiddleford’s eyes point two different directions when he’d first come out of the portal, and now with his right eye closed. If he wore an eyepatch, he wouldn’t have to squeeze his eye shut like that.

She picked up an eyepatch from the dresser (she’d brought three from her home, just in case) and took it to Fiddleford. She put the strap over his head and situated the eyepatch over his right eye. “Better?”

Fiddleford blinked a few times. “Much better,” he said with relief in his voice.

“Okay, now let’s sit up.” Melody helped him to a sitting position just as she had yesterday — except this time, Fiddleford pulled more of his own weight. Then she helped him stand up, and she placed his hands on the walker. “Use this, all right? Even if you feel like you don’t need it. Just use it to be safe.”

Fiddleford nodded, and Melody stood beside him with a steadying arm around his back. “Good,” she said. “Let’s go.”

They left the room and moved down the hall toward the bathroom. Fiddleford’s steps were shambling and a little unsteady, but they were miraculous considering that this was the first time he had walked in _thirty years_. Melody could hardly believe what she was seeing, and she hoped that Ford and the others would come back soon with Juniper. Melody needed magical help to understand all of this.

They made it to the bathroom slowly but surely. Melody opened the door and helped Fiddleford into the room. “Do you need my help?” Melody asked.

“I can handle it myself,” Fiddleford said. He seemed embarrassed at the thought of her coming into the bathroom with him.

Melody’s first instinct was to doubt that Fiddleford could actually handle it, but then she reconsidered. He’d been doing some miraculous things so far. Maybe she should let him try this, too. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll stay out here. Don’t lock the door, though, and call me if you need help. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Fiddleford. I’m here to help you.”

She closed the door gently and waited. She could hear Fiddleford shuffling around in the bathroom, then relieving himself, then flushing, then washing his hands. There didn’t seem to be any problems with his balance or anything.

Melody waited for Fiddleford to open the door, but he didn’t. He was silent on the other side. “Fiddleford?” she called.

No answer.

“Fiddleford, are you okay? I’m coming in,” she said, and she pushed open the door.

Fiddleford stood, his hands braced on the bathroom counter, and stared at himself in the mirror. His left eye was wide as he took in his reflection.

“Fiddleford? Is everything okay?”

“I’m. . .” He lifted a hand to feel the wrinkles on his face. “What happened to me?”

“What do you mean?”

He wrenched his eyes — or, his left eye — away from the mirror and turned to Melody. “How long was I in the other dimension?”

Melody’s eyes widened. “You don’t know?”

He shook his head slowly. “It. . . it felt like only a minute. Or. . . an eternity. I don’t know.”

“You told me you just floated there,” Melody said. “Did you. . . did you move at all?”

Another slow shake of his head. “I didn’t move. I just. . . thought.” His left eye closed. “All I could do was think about all the terrible things I’d done. About what I’d done to Stanley.”

“For thirty years?” Melody whispered.

“Is that. . .” Fiddleford couldn’t seem to believe it. “Is that how long it’s been?”

“Yes,” Melody said. “You disappeared sometime in 1982. It’s the beginning of 2013 now.”

Fiddleford stared at her. Then, with his hands still braced on the counter, he hung his head. “Thirty years,” he mumbled. “That means. . . I’m sixty-two years old?”

“I guess so,” Melody said quietly. “Fiddleford, I. . . I had no idea you didn’t know how long it’s been.”

He ran a hand over his wrinkly bald head and through his matted beard. “Look at me,” he whispered. “I’m. . . old.”

“We can trim your beard, if you want,” Melody said, “and get it out of the way.”

He lifted his long beard and frowned at it. “That would be nice.”

“Should we trim it now, or do you want food first?”

“Let’s do it now, while we’re here,” he said.

So Melody got Ford’s clippers, helped Fiddleford sit on the side of the bathtub, and cut off most of Fidds’ beard. A lot of the hair made it into the trash can; the rest went down the bathtub drain; and soon Fiddleford had a small, manageable beard that was only a few inches long. Having a shorter, neater beard made Fiddleford look less like an unkempt hobo and more like a kind grandfather.

He rubbed his face once she was done. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s a lot better.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “How’s your energy? Do you want food now?”

“Food, for sure,” he said. He glanced up at her. “Apparently I haven’t eaten in thirty years. I’m starving.”

He should be long dead. But he wasn’t. He was alive, and he was walking and talking. Melody went with him to the kitchen, keeping her arm around him as he moved with the walker, and already his steps were getting stronger. They made it to the kitchen, where Melody left Fidds at the table and started making him some food. “I’m going to blend it together so you can swallow it easier, okay?” Fidds didn’t look happy about that, but he relented. Before long, he was noisily eating the pureed food that she’d made for him.

It was his first meal in thirty years.

After he finished, he seemed to droop. “Are you getting tired again?” asked Melody. “You can go back to sleep.”

“I. . . I’m so tired,” Fiddleford said. “Why am I so tired?”

Melody helped him to his feet and brought his walker closer to him. “It’s going to take a while to get your energy back up,” she said. “For now, you can rest. We’re going to get some supernatural help, too, to see if there’s anything else you need. Sound good?”

He nodded, his head bobbing on his neck. His energy was draining fast, despite his strength just a few minutes earlier.

Melody went back to Ford’s room with him, and he was slower than he was before. They eventually got back to the room, and Melody helped Fidds back into the bed. “Just rest, Fiddleford,” she said. “It’s okay.”

She took off his eyepatch, and he closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, Melody.”

“You’re going to be okay,” she assured him.

His breathing slowed. Fiddleford dropped off to sleep.

~~~~~

After spending two weeks alone in a cave in the middle of the forest, Lincoln had hoped not to return for at least a few days. But, only two days after Lincoln had returned from the cave, Bill Cipher wanted to leave town again.

It was late morning, and Lincoln was cleaning up after a nice brunch he had shared with Pacifica. Things were admittedly tense between them — Pacifica seemed to think that Lincoln was bewitched or otherwise deceived by the Pines when he tried to convince her to join the Cipher Wheel — but Lincoln still tried to reach out to the girl. The fact that she’d hid Ford from him really hurt, but Lincoln was determined not to let it drive a rift between them. He would stay close to Pacifica, spend time with her, and show her that he wouldn’t abandon her. That seemed to be what she needed right now.

And maybe, just maybe, Lincoln could convince her to join the Cipher Wheel.

He filled the sink with sudsy water and started washing the dishes from their meal. How long did he have? Bill had appeared in his dreams last night and informed him that they would be leaving again today sometime around noon. Lincoln had no idea where exactly they were going, just that it was somewhere in the forest. He didn’t want to go, but he hardly had a choice in the matter.

Lincoln washed the dishes, dried them, and put them away. He took his sweet time doing it, too. He was drying the last of the dishes when Pacifica reappeared in the kitchen. “Are you going to get ready?” she asked.

Lincoln glanced to her. “I don’t want to go. I think Bill is perfectly capable of getting ready once he takes over.”

“That only means he’ll be in your body longer,” Pacifica pointed out, folding her arms.

True, but Lincoln still didn’t want to follow Bill’s orders any more than he had to. He finished drying the final pan and put it away. “You’re not coming with us, are you?” he asked Pacifica.

“No, I’ll be working on something here.” From her expression, it seemed she was looking forward to it.

“What will you be doing?”

The happy look on Pacifica’s face dropped. “I’m not supposed to tell you,” she said. “Look, you really should go get ready. You need to get your snowshoes and other supplies.”

Lincoln sighed. “No.”

Pacifica didn’t look impressed. She glanced to the side, then back up at Lincoln. “Bill says he doesn’t have time for this.”

“I don’t care to know what Bill says,” Lincoln replied. He felt a twinge of annoyance. Twenty years ago, he would have been enraged at the way Bill was using him; but Bill’s deal to take away Lincoln’s anger was still in effect. Lincoln had thought many times in the past couple days that he should be angry at a lot of things. But he never was.

Pacifica, for her part, was plenty angry. “You’re deliberately sabotaging him!” she said in an accusatory voice.

“Yes, in whatever way I can,” Lincoln replied. It wasn’t enough — it’d never be enough unless Lincoln found a way to join the Cipher Wheel — but it was something.

Pacifica looked as if she couldn’t believe her ears. Then she arranged her face into a smile. “Well, it’s not going to work. Bill can still do what he needs to do.” Her expression took on an imperious air. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help Lord Cipher. The way _you_ should be.”

Lincoln watched Pacifica flounce away, and it felt as if an invisible hand were squeezing his heart. She was delusional. She was completely taken in by Bill’s false promises — much like Lincoln had been for years. She was determined to help Cipher. How was Lincoln supposed to convince her otherwise?

He went back to his room and sat listlessly on his bed, waiting for Bill to take over. It was a terrible suspense, knowing that you were about to leave your body but not knowing when. Lee almost wanted to get ready to leave, if only so that he’d be moving. But instead he lay back on his bed and stubbornly waited for Bill.

Lincoln felt a tug on his soul, and Bill pulled his spirit from his body. “To say I’m **annoyed** would be an **understatement** ,” the demon said once he was inside Lincoln’s body, “but that’s not **important** right now. We need to **go**.”

“Enjoy doing that, then,” Lincoln said. Bill shot him a glare before standing up and gathering supplies.

It wasn’t too long before Bill left the Order: Lincoln’s delaying tactics hadn’t been very effective. But, well, it was all Lincoln could do. He floated beside Bill as they started the walk into the forest.

Bill was silent as they went. Sometime later, a bored Lincoln realized something. “Hey, Cipher,” he said, “I have a question.”

Bill glanced sideways at him. “That’s **Lord Cipher** to you.”

The correction was a painful reminder. “You are not my lord,” Lincoln said. “Not anymore.”

Bill raised his eyebrows. “But I’m **lording** over your body at the moment. I have the **control** of a **lord**.”

Lincoln had to banish some panicky thoughts before he could reply. “Well, my question is, do I have to stay by your side while you’re in my body? Couldn’t I go see Ford at the Mystery Museum?”

Bill shrugged. “Technically **yes** , I suppose. But **Sixer** isn’t at the **Museum** right now.”

“Where is he?”

“Somewhere in this **forest** ,” Bill said. “He’s on a **futile** journey to ask the creatures of the forest for **help** in **breaking** your and my **deal**. But he’ll learn **soon enough** that that’s **not** how it works.”

Lincoln glanced away as more panicky thoughts threatened to overwhelm him.

“ **Also** , Blind Eye, it’s not very **practical** to leave as a spirit while your body is **still alive** ,” Bill added. “A **live human body** can only survive for so long without a **spirit** inside of it. When I **leave** your body, you’ll want to return to it **as soon as possible** , lest the **connection** wane.”

He had a point, though Lincoln highly doubted that Bill would leave Lincoln’s body to die if the demon still needed it as a vessel. As they continued through the forest, Lincoln debated on whether or not to leave Cipher’s side. He eventually decided that, since he didn’t even know where they were going, it was a bad idea to be separated from his body any more than he already was.

A while later, Bill started walking parallel to a cliff face on his left. The stone was pockmarked with boulders and indents, and Bill passed a few small caves that reminded Lincoln of the one he’d stayed in until a few days ago. Lincoln glanced at them in distaste and tried to ignore the worried thought that Bill was going to, once again, put him all alone in a cave.

Finally, Bill stopped. “Okay, I think it’s **here** ,” he said in a quiet voice (which was strange to hear, since Bill was usually quite loud). “Lincoln, do you see anything in the air in front of us?”

“Like what?”

“Like a **shimmery veil** , perhaps. Some kind of **barrier**.”

Now that Bill mentioned it, the air a few feet in front of them did have a wavery look to it. “I think so,” Lincoln said. “Why? What is it?”

Bill didn’t answer the question. “Float **past** the barrier and **tell me** what you see.”

This instruction puzzled Lincoln, but he knew what his response was. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Bill rolled his eyes. “ **Well** , if they’re **there** , then they’ve probably **already seen me**.”

“Who’s they?”

Once again, no answer. Instead, Bill moved quietly along the cliff face — or, as quietly as he could in snow clothes and snowshoes. Lincoln followed, and he didn’t see anyone at first. Then he noticed the open space through the trees, and he caught glimpses of movement beyond. Lincoln left Bill’s side to go investigate.

There was indeed an open space through the trees, and there were only sparse trees throughout the large clearing. The space wasn’t empty, though: Huts made of wood and snow-covered thatch, in various states of damage, spotted the area. Large creatures surrounded the huts, working to repair them.

The creatures themselves were startling. They had the same basic shape as humans, but larger. Some, presumably the women, wore dresses wrapped around them, and the men wore simple skirts to the knees. (None of them had much protection from the cold, but they didn’t seem bothered by it.) Their feet were cloven hooves; their legs were covered in fur; their heads appeared mammalian — but not human. Lee stared at them for several seconds before recognizing them: These were the minotaurs, known by that name because they resembled the famous bull-human monster from Greek mythology. Lincoln had seen pictures of them in books in the Order library.

The minotaurs were busy working; none even looked to the cliff wall, much less investigated to catch intruders. Lincoln wished he could warn them about Bill’s presence, but it was hard to warn people of anything when one was only a spirit. Lee wondered why Bill was trespassing on minotauran lands.

Speaking of Bill, Lincoln probably shouldn’t lose him. He flew back through the trees until he found Bill standing in front of the mouth of a small save and squinting into the darkness. “What are you looking for?” Lincoln asked.

Bill didn’t answer, likely because he didn’t want to draw the minotaurs’ attention by talking. The demon glanced back the way he came, then back into the cave. Then, with a determined nod, he stepped forward.

There was a loud _crack!_ , and Bill was thrown back by an unseen force. He landed on his back in the snow, and the white dust flurried around him after the impact. Almost immediately, Bill flew out of Lincoln’s body. “ ** _No!_** ” the triangle shouted in surprised anger. “ **No, no, no!** ”

“What just happened?” asked Lee, flying over in alarm.

“Your body is **unconscious** , and I’m a **fool** ,” Bill said bitterly. “I **assumed** they wouldn’t have their **magical defenses** up yet.” He cursed; Lincoln didn’t understand the words he said, but he doubted they were anything good.

“I’m unconscious?” Lee stared down at his body, which was lying peacefully in the snow. “Are you sure I’m not—?”

“You’re not **dead** ,” Bill said.

Lee felt the urge to re-enter his body, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Who knew when he’d wake up? Who knew where he’d be? As a spirit, Lincoln watched a group of minotaurs run through the trees and gather around Lincoln’s unconscious body. They spoke in loud, alarmed tones; Lincoln couldn’t quite make out the words, though some of them sounded similar to English words. A female minotaur with a baby on her hip gestured at people to stay back, and a smaller minotaur ran into the cave that Bill had tried to enter. “Wait!” called Lincoln instinctively, but the minotaur wasn’t hurt when he passed into the cave.

“What do you mean?” Bill asked. “What’s **going on**?”

Lincoln glanced to him. “Can’t you see?”

“ **No** , not when your body is **unconscious** like this,” Bill said. “Only **you** can see what’s going on right now.”

The smaller minotaur, who Lincoln assumed was a young boy, ran back out of the cave and declared something that seemed to cause relief in the other minotaurs.

“Well, what’s **happening**?” Bill asked.

“If you can’t see, then I’m not going to tell you,” Lincoln said.

Bill rolled his eye. “ **Fine**. I’ll see it in your **mind** later.”

Lincoln glanced at the minotaurs, who were in some kind of tense discussion that he couldn’t understand. “Why can’t you see it in my mind now?” he asked Bill.

“Because you don’t **have** a mind right now,” Bill said. “Only **souls** have minds. Bodies have **brains** ; spirit have **intelligences** ; and when put together in a **soul** , they make a **mind**. When you go **back** into your body, your **spirit** will tell your **body** what happened, and **that’s** when I’ll be able to see it in your **mind**.”

Lincoln was confused, but he didn’t have much time to think about what Bill had said. The minotaurs picked Lee’s body up out of the snow, and it was slung over a brawny minotaur’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Wait, what are you doing?” asked Lee, forgetting that the minotaurs couldn’t hear him.

“Are they taking your body?” asked Bill.

Lincoln turned to him. “What are they going to do to me?” he asked, slightly panicked.

“Probably take you **prisoner** ,” said Bill, “if they can find an **undamaged building** to put you in.”

“Prisoner?” The panic was stifling; Lincoln could almost see his own terrified thoughts floating around him.

“You’ll probably be **fine** ,” Bill said. “You had better **return** to your **body** soon. You don’t want to **leave** it for **too long** without a spirit, even when it’s **unconscious**.”

Lincoln glanced between the minotaurs (who were discussing something with Lee’s unconscious body still over one of the men’s shoulders) and Bill.

“ **Go on** ,” Bill encouraged. “I’ll see you **later**.”

Lincoln didn’t move. “You brought me out here to get taken prisoner by the minotaurs?” he finally said.

“ **No** , I brought you out here to **steal** something,” Bill said, “and I **failed**. Now **you** get to suffer the **consequences**.”

The minotaurs started walking away, and Lincoln’s body flopped like a ragdoll. Lee winced and flew after them. He glanced back at where Bill had been, but the demon had disappeared. Lincoln was left alone with no one to see or hear him.

The urge to return to his body was almost overwhelming. He should follow that urge, he knew; but he was scared. What would happen to him? Would the minotaurs hurt him?

He followed the minotaurs all the way to a hut that was mostly intact. A few minotaurs entered, and the minotaur who had Lee over his shoulder placed him on a bench in the back of the hut.

Go back! cried Lee’s thoughts. Please, let me back into my body!

Lincoln could no longer deny the desire to return. He shot a fearful look around the hut. The minotaurs were conversing again, and nobody was touching Lee’s body. If they were going to kill him, they would’ve already done so, right? He was safe. He could return to his body and enjoy the oblivion of unconsciousness.

Lincoln flew into his body, and darkness overtook him.


	7. Chapter 7

Ford immediately went with June to see his brother.

Dipper and Mabel had wanted to go too, but Ford and June had agreed that they couldn’t risk Bill seeing through the kids’ eyes. Lee was currently unconscious; Bill couldn’t see anything that was going on in the minotaur village. The minotaurs likely wanted to keep it that way. So, leaving Dipper, Mabel, and Gideon behind, June had taken Ford through the tree network to the minotaur village.

The minotaurs were doing their best to get back to work on reconstruction after the panic of Lee’s intrusion. June pointed Ford to one of the less-damaged buildings in the village, then disappeared into the trees. At the hut was a crowd of minotaurs, including many of the elders that Ford had spoken to only three days before. The minotaurs spoke in a language that sounded somewhat similar to English but was largely foreign to Ford; then, when the elders noticed Ford, they switched to English. “Stanford Pines,” said one elder whose name Ford remembered to be Twánat. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Ford said. “I’m sorry about the destruction from the gravitational anomalies.”

Twánat dipped his head in sorrow or acknowledgment or both; Ford wasn’t sure. “It was necessary to bring the tenth Symbol here, was it not?”

“Yes,” Ford said, “and he’ll recover. It wasn’t my brother on the other side of the portal, like we had thought, but it was still the last person needed for the Cipher Wheel. We found my brother in the Order, where he’s apparently been imprisoned for the past thirty years.” Ford took a breath. “June tells me he’s here.”

“Yes, in here.” Twánat led Ford through a simple door (that was partly hanging off its hinges) into the small building.

There was Lee, lying unconscious on a simple wooden bench. Ford ran to his brother’s side. “Lee,” he whispered, kneeling down on the dirt floor and putting a hand on Lee’s shoulder.

“We found him unconscious beside the entrance to one of our secure areas,” said a female minotaur behind Ford. “He set off the warding spells, which is why he’s unconscious. We thought he was you at first.”

Ford looked back at the woman. She had a soft brown bovine face and round black eyes. Tied over one shoulder was a simple red dress that reached to her ankles (or, her fetlocks), and her hooves were black and shiny. “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” she said. “I’m Moira, Andrew’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ford got to his feet and held out a hand. She looked a bit confused at the hand, but then she nodded in recognition of the human custom and shook it. “Is Andrew here?” continued Ford. “Could I speak to him?”

Moira shook her head. “He left not long before we found your brother. He’s just doing simple business to help with the village repairs, but this whole situation almost seems like it was planned for Andrew’s absence.”

Ford scowled. “That sounds like Cipher.”

“What?” Twánat asked in alarm.

“Bill Cipher is behind this, I guarantee it,” Ford said. “He and my brother have a deal that allows Bill to possess him at any time. Cipher probably learned that Andrew would be gone, and he brought Stanley here to steal whatever it was he was trying to steal.”

Twánat threw his head back in surprise. “But Cipher doesn’t know!” he said. “He doesn’t know we have it!”

“Have what?”

“Andrew can explain it better than I can,” Moira said, “but it’s a dagger. A dagger that’s linked to the Cipher Wheel. If Cipher gets his hands on it, then that’s a major step towards his escape.”

“But Cipher didn’t know,” Twánat insisted. “No humans ever found out, and we don’t know of any human prophecies that link us to the dagger — or even identify the dagger as the needed object for Cipher to retrieve. How could Cipher bring your brother here if he didn’t know?”

“He must have found out somehow,” Ford said. “I don’t know how, but I do know that yesterday the Order of the Crescent Eye spent the day researching the prophecies in their library. Maybe they found something.”

“They shouldn’t have,” Twánat said. “We didn’t even notice anything until your brother — or, Cipher — set off the magical defenses, which means he must have gone straight to the cave where we keep the dagger. He knew more about this than he ever should have.”

“You’ll have to ask my brother when he wakes up,” Ford said, “and see if he knows anything. Do you know when he’ll wake?”

“A few hours, perhaps,” said Twánat. “What were you saying about Cipher possessing him?”

Ford took a deep, steadying breath and explained what he knew about Lee’s and Bill’s deal. “We don’t know how Stanley can fulfill the Cipher Wheel prophecy,” he finished, “because Cipher can force him out of his body and keep him from joining the rest of us.”

Ford couldn’t read minotauran expressions very well, but even he could tell that Twánat and Moira were horrified. “I need your help,” Ford continued, “to help me find a way. Help me find a way that Stanley can be a part of the Cipher Wheel.”

Twánat nodded solemnly. “We’ll do what we can,” he said. “But you do realize, Stanford, that we can’t allow Stanley to leave? If Cipher can possess him at will, then there’s no telling what the demon will do with constant access to a physical body. We can’t allow your brother to give him any opportunities.”

Ford hesitated, then nodded. “You’re right,” he said reluctantly.

“Twánat,” said Moira, “forgive me for questioning your wise judgment, but wouldn’t there be a danger of Cipher possessing Stanley and doing even more damage from inside our village?”

“There would be, if we gave him the chance,” Twánat acknowledged. “We’ll have to keep Stanley restrained.”

Ford’s eyes flared. “What do you mean? You’re not hurting my brother.”

“No, no,” the elder assured him. “It’s true that we’ll use magic — perhaps physical bonds, if necessary — to keep him imprisoned. But we won’t hurt him unless he deliberately fights against us.”

Ford glanced down at Lee. The man was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the conversation about him. Ford hated the idea of Lee being imprisoned — but, well, wasn’t he already imprisoned by Bill? Better the minotaurs than that demon. Ford sighed. “If that’s the case,” he said, “then I hope you’ll let me visit.”

“Of course,” said Twánat. “You’re the only human immune to Cipher’s spying.”

“I wish more could escape him,” Ford said. “Juniper the hamadryad said that she probably could make Lee immune, too, but that it wouldn’t stop Cipher from possessing him. It’s. . . well, it’s something, at least. Once he wakes up, we should talk to him about it.”

Twánat nodded in agreement. A moment of silence passed; then, another minotaur came hurrying into the hut, nearly knocking the lopsided door all the way off its hinges in his haste. “What’s going on?” asked Andrew. “What happened?”

Moira moved to her husband. “Stanford’s brother came and tried to steal the dagger,” she said.

“But it was really Bill Cipher,” Ford corrected. “Bill was likely possessing him. I can’t think of any other reason he’d come out here.”

Andrew looked with wide eyes from his wife to Twánat to Ford. “But — but Cipher doesn’t know.”

“He apparently does,” Twánat said heavily. “We’ll have to ask Stanley what he knows when he wakes up.”

Andrew glanced to Lee’s sleeping form. “Stanley? Is that your brother’s name, Stanford?”

Ford nodded. “He’s known as Lincoln by those in the Order, but his real name is Stanley.”

“We have to keep him prisoner,” Twánat told Andrew. He and Ford explained what they had just been discussing: Bill’s power over Lee, Bill’s unexplained knowledge about the dagger, and the minotaurs’ need to keep Lee imprisoned so that Bill couldn’t use him as a vessel.

Andrew took in the information quietly, his large black eyes staring intently at Lee. “There might be a problem with that plan,” he said after Twánat and Ford were finished. “If Cipher gets the dagger, then it’s only a stone’s skip away from one his Symbols, and he can use Stanley to start his journey. I’m not sure if we can risk that.”

“Would he give up his vessel so soon, though?” Twánat asked.

Ford did _not_ appreciate Lee being referred to as a “vessel,” but he didn’t say so. “Can you explain more about this to me?” he asked instead. “What journey? What does a dagger have to do with the Cipher Wheel?”

“That’s a good idea,” said Twánat. “If we tell Stanford about all this, then one of Cipher’s Symbols will know how to defeat Cipher without Cipher himself knowing how to escape.”

Andrew nodded. “Good plan.” He turned to Ford. “The dagger is an obsidian dagger with all ten of the Symbols carved into its hilt. Once anyone uses it to harm a Symbol, then that Symbol is taken up into the sky and used to power Cipher’s journey.”

“What journey?” Ford asked again.

Andrew, Moira, and Twánat shared glances. Then Andrew gestured for Ford to sit down. Ford gently pushed Lee out of the way until there was space by his head to sit on the bench. The minotaurs stayed standing.

“Cipher is trying to escape,” Andrew began. “You already knew that, but do you know what that escape would look like?”

“I don’t,” Ford admitted. “I was hoping to form the Cipher Wheel before I had to find out.” He glanced at Lee.

“There may be hope yet,” Andrew said, though he didn’t sound sure of that. “Cipher’s escape, the way the ancients set it up, is in stages. The first stage, getting all ten Symbols in town boundaries, has already happened. That’s why the barrier went up.”

“What about the time bubble?”

Andrew lowered his head. “The time bubble,” he said slowly, “was supposed to be a time of preparation. It went up when the ninth Symbol came into town, and I should have felt it. We should have had time to prepare before the tenth Symbol arrived.”

“Should have?”

Andrew looked up at him. “I missed it,” he said, and he sounded ashamed. “I somehow missed the time bubble until it was already over.”

The hut fell into silence. Then, Ford asked, “What are the other stages?”

“The next stage is to use the dagger against one of the Symbols,” Andrew said. “See, the only way for Cipher to escape is to travel through the dimensions — ‘multiverse’ is the term they use in the Order — until he reaches his own. To do that, he’ll have to take his entire prison with him.”

Ford blinked, trying to visualize this. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means this entire forest, and the human town inside of it, will be uprooted from its place in this dimension and used as a vessel to travel through the dimensions,” Andrew said solemnly. “I believe those in the Order call it the ‘township’ — the town and the forest used as a ship. With the barrier, the township has already formed. With the dagger, if it’s specifically used to cut one of the Symbols across the hand, the township can start moving.”

There was a long silence and Ford tried to process all this. “So if Cipher gets ahold of that dagger,” he said, “it means that this entire area will move through the multiverse.”

“Yes,” Andrew said. “The barrier would keep anyone from getting in or out — which would prevent any rescue attempts from people in the other dimensions. Cipher would use the Symbols to power his ship, and he would be on his way to freedom.”

“How would the Symbols power the ship?” asked Ford.

“Life force,” Andrew answered. “Once the dagger pierces a Symbol’s hand, it entraps the Symbol in its magic and starts draining their life force to power the ship. Then, once the Symbol has been used up, it moves on to the next one. The trip is just long enough to require the life force of all ten Symbols.”

Ford stared at him in horror.

“The prison will dissolve when Cipher reaches his dimension. I don’t know what will become of the rest of us if that happens.” Andrew gave a hollow laugh. “If we’re still alive after the trip, I doubt that Cipher will be merciful against the people who kept him captive.”

“Will he reward those in the Order?” Ford’s tone was deeply cynical as he thought of the Corduroys.

“I doubt it.” It was Moira who answered. “Cipher can’t lie, and he has to keep his promises, but only as part of his prison. Once the prison is gone, I’m sure he’ll be able to break whatever promises he wants.”

Andrew nodded. “Those in the Order count his current inability to lie as a reason to have faith in him. They couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Ford looked down at Lee again. He tried to banish the thought that Lee had, in the past, had enough faith in Cipher to offer his soul to the demon. It was too painful of a thought to entertain. Instead, Ford went back to the topic of the dagger. “So you’re worried, Andrew, that Cipher will somehow get the dagger and use it on Lee to start the township.”

“If we keep Stanley captive, yes,” Andrew said.

“But I don’t think Cipher would risk that,” Twánat said. “The trip is a long one; if Cipher starts it off by killing the Symbol that he can possess at will, then it’ll be harder for him to run things. He needs Stanley.”

This talk of Cipher killing Lee sent a shudder through Ford’s entire body, and Ford protectively grabbed onto his brother’s shoulder without realizing what he was doing. “Cipher has to kill us?” he asked. Then, as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized their implications. “That means. . . as soon as one Symbol is dead, the rest can’t form the Cipher Wheel.”

“Exactly,” Andrew said grimly. “We only have up until the first Symbol dies — or, more accurately, up until Cipher gets his hands on the dagger — to form the Cipher Wheel. I suppose there would be a way to break the life force spell on a Symbol once they’ve been stabbed by the dagger, but I don’t know exactly how that would work. I’ll have to do more research on it.”

Moira wrapped her hands around her husband’s arm and glanced up at him in concern. Then she turned to Ford. “That’s the type of thing we would have done if we’d known about the time bubble,” she said sadly. “That and gathering the nine Symbols that were already here.”

“Yes.” Andrew’s voice was heavy.

Ford thought about how things might be different if they’d gathered the Symbols earlier, and he felt a bit of the sorrow that Andrew felt. He took a deep breath. “Are you keeping Lee here, then?” he asked. “I agree with Twánat that I don’t think Cipher will want to hurt him. It’s better to take him out of commission so that Cipher can’t use him against us.” The words brought a constricting, burning feeling to his throat, but he did his best to ignore it.

Andrew and Moira looked to Twánat in deference. Twánat nodded. “I think that’s the best strategy for us right now. We’ll keep Stanley here and question him when he wakes up.” He glanced to Ford. “Will he be willing to answer our questions?”

Ford nodded. “He’s not on Cipher’s side, not anymore. He should tell you whatever he can, unless Cipher takes over his body and stops him.”

“We have to figure out how Cipher knew about the dagger, too,” said Andrew.

“Agreed,” said Twánat. He clasped his hands together. “Well, Stanford, we can probably send you home soon. But first, can you give us a report on the other Symbols? Beside Stanley’s problem with Cipher, how close are we to forming the Wheel?”

So Ford told them the current situation: the five people staying at the Museum, waiting for the chance to form the Wheel; Fiddleford, who was, according to June, on his way to recovery; Robbie, whose parents were part of the Order but still seemed to be allowing him to join them; Wendy, who hadn’t wanted anything to do with them, but whom Robbie would bring around; Lee, whose conditions the minotaurs already knew; and Pacifica, who seemed thoroughly on Cipher’s side, but whom Lee may have convinced to join their side in the past few days. Ford had no idea what Pacifica was doing or what had happened between her and Lee since Ford had last seen his brother.

The minotaurs were quiet until Ford finished. “That’s better than it could have been,” Moira finally said. “At least we know who all the Symbols are.”

“True,” Andrew said, but he didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “We’ll have to ask Stanley more about Pacifica when he wakes. She could be a problem.”

Ford thought back to the time that she had tortured him, not to mention the various kidnappings of Dipper and Mabel. _Problem_ might be an understatement.

“We’ll want to physically gather whatever Symbols we can,” Andrew continued. “Your Museum seems like a good place. After Stanley wakes up and I get to talk to him, I’ll come to the Museum, and we can place defensive magic around the building.”

Ford nodded. “Should I expect you tonight?”

“Yes, or tomorrow morning, depending on when Stanley wakes.”

“All right.” Ford got to his feet. “Thank you for telling me about the township. Let Stanley know I was here and that I’ll visit again. And don’t. . .” Ford knew they wouldn’t, but he had to be sure. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Of course not,” Andrew said.

Ford nodded. “Also,” he said, “Dipper and Mabel will want to visit with me. Would that be possible? What should I tell them when I get back? They’re worried about their uncle, and they were heartbroken that they couldn’t come see him.”

Andrew gave a slow nod. "I want them to be able to come," he said, "but I don't know when or if they'll be able to. For now, they should stay at the Museum. Once we put up the defensive magic, that'll be the safest place for them."

Ford thought of how the twins would react when they learned that not only could they not visit Lee, but they couldn’t even leave the Museum. They would hate that, but he could only hope that they would understand.

“As for what you can tell them,” Twánat added, “don’t share what we told you about the township. They already know the importance of the Cipher Wheel, so keep bringing the Symbols together by telling them what you were already telling them. I don’t know how much Cipher knows about what we just told you, but we don’t want to give him any more information than he already has.”

Ford nodded.

“Go ahead and tell them that we’re keeping Stanley captive,” Andrew said. “Tell them that he’s okay. Don’t tell them exactly what happened, though. If Cipher really was possessing him, then the demon would have lost sight of the forest when Stanley fell unconscious.”

Ford hated that he couldn’t even tell his family what had happened without Bill Cipher knowing as well. “Should I tell them about the dagger? Are we assuming that Cipher already knows about it?”

The minotaurs shared unhappy glances. “I don’t know how he _couldn’t_ know about it, if he brought Stanley here,” Twánat said. “It’s probably safest if you do, but only tell them that it’s an obsidian dagger with the Symbols on the hilt that they have to stay away from.”

“All right,” Ford said. “Anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” Andrew said.

Ford glanced at the doorway, then back at his brother. Getting to his knees, he put one hand on Lee’s shoulder and the other on Lee’s forehead. “I’m sorry, Lee,” he whispered. “It’s for the best. They’ll take care of you here, and I’ll be back.” Then he stood up and said goodbye to the minotaurs, thanking them for their help.

“Thank you for what you’re doing with the Wheel,” Twánat replied.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Andrew added.

“See you then.” Then, ducking around the half-broken door, Ford left the minotaur hut. He headed for the tree line, planning to get June’s help in returning to the Museum.

As he went, he couldn’t help but think that although he had a lot more information now, he didn’t have much more hope than he’d had before.


	8. Chapter 8

Lincoln woke with an unidentifiable dread in his stomach.

He was lying on a hard surface on his back. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a thatched roof above his head. Light came through a high window just beneath the thatching. The area was comfortably warm, and someone had taken off Lee’s snow gear. He was wearing only a t-shirt and jeans.

Lee stared at the thatching, trying to figure out where he was.

Then he remembered, and he sat bolt upright.

“Woah,” said a voice. “Are you okay?”

Lincoln whirled around and found himself face to face with a minotaur. The sight startled him; he put his hands up defensively. “Stay back,” he said on instinct.

“It’s okay,” said the minotaur. “I won’t hurt you.”

As Lee calmed down from his initial scare, he looked closer at the minotaur. She appeared to be a female, with a more narrow face, a slender body, and a shirt over her round breast. The shirt was leather; it appeared to be armor of some kind.

“Sorry,” Lincoln said. “You startled me.”

“Do you remember what happened before you fell unconscious?” she asked.

Lincoln thought back. The memory of what had happened — Bill possessing him and coming to the minotaur village, Bill getting Lincoln knocked out, Lincoln watching as a spirit as the minotaurs brought him to this hut — came back easily. “Yes, I remember,” he said. “Am I a prisoner?”

The minotaur nodded. “You are. But, like I said, we won’t hurt you.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Xítway,” she said, making a hissing noise at the beginning that Lincoln would never have expected to hear from a cow. But, he reminded himself, she wasn’t a cow — her head just happened to look somewhat like one.

“Heet-wuy?” he repeated, trying out the name.

She nodded. “Xítway.” The name rolled off her tongue easier than it did his. “I’m your guard.”

He stiffened a bit at the word “guard,” then forced himself to relax. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lincoln.”

She tilted her head. “They told me your name was Stanley,” she said.

“It is, but I go by Lincoln,” he said, “or Lee.” Though he accepted that Stanley was his “real name,” he didn’t feel comfortable with it. He frowned. “Wait, who told you my name was Stanley?”

“Andrew did,” Xítway answered. “He learned from your brother.”

“Stanford was here?”

“Yes, a few hours ago. He plans to come back sometime and visit you.”

Lincoln’s heart lifted. Stanford knew where he was, and he was going to come see him. That was enough to make Lee feel better. Plus, Ford would never allow the minotaurs to keep Lee captive if he thought Lee was in danger. Feeling a lot safer, Lincoln asked, “And who’s Andrew?”

“I’ll let him introduce himself,” she replied. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Is he another minotaur?”

“Yes.”

Lincoln frowned. “Then why does he have an English name, but you don’t?”

Xítway smiled. “We minotaurs get our names from all over the place: our old dimension, the native American tribes from this area, the English-speaking humans of today. Our names and our native language are a big mixture.”

Lincoln nodded. It made sense. As he’d learned from books in the Order library, the species in the forest came from all over the multiverse to join the humans in creating Bill’s prison. The species, such as the minotaurs, had stayed in the area to watch over the prison. The forest around Gravity Rises was one of the only places in the multiverse that had such a diversity of species.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve done research about the different species coming here and forming societies, but I’ve always wondered. Don’t tell me if you don’t want Cipher to know, but how do you control the population in the different areas of the forest? Wouldn’t there be a lot more minotaurs and other species after so many generations?”

Xítway shrugged. “We have our ways.” Lincoln must have been giving her a worried stare, because she laughed and added, “Don’t worry, we don’t kill our own kind or anything like that. We’re not barbarians.”

He put up his hands in mock surrender. “I wasn’t saying you were.”

She grinned at him (which was admittedly a little scary, with her different facial anatomy) but didn’t tell him more. Maybe she couldn’t share, since Cipher was listening. Fine then.

Xítway glanced to the door. “Well, I’d better get Andrew. Just a minute.”

For a second, Lincoln worried that she’d leave the hut and give Cipher an opportunity to escape in Lincoln’s body, but she only went to the door (which was hanging halfway off its hinges and letting in the cold air — so why was it warm in here?) and shouted unfamiliar words, presumably from her native language. After a moment, she came back over to Lincoln. “There, someone is getting him.”

Lincoln nodded, trying not to show his fear. It was an irrational fear: Xítway seemed very nice, so why should Lincoln be worried about this Andrew? Instead of dwelling on the feeling, Lincoln asked, “Why is it warm in here?”

Xítway shrugged. “Magic. The cold doesn’t bother us as much as it does humans, but we still like the warmth. And we knew we’d need it for you.”

“Thank you,” Lincoln said. It would definitely be uncomfortable to be a prisoner in the winter cold, even with his winter gear. Said gear was off to the side of the hut; Lincoln wondered why the minotaurs didn’t take it away to stop him from escaping without freezing. Maybe they would later.

It was only a few minutes before another minotaur entered the hut. “Hello, Stanley. How are you feeling?”

“Call me Lincoln,” he said. “Are you Andrew?”

“I am. You’re okay? No side effects from the knockout spell?”

Lincoln shook his head. “I’m feeling fine. I understand I’m a prisoner here.”

“Yes,” Andrew said, “and I wanted to ask you some questions. May I?” He came over to the bench and sat beside Lincoln, who forced down the instinctual fear from being so close to someone from an unfamiliar species.

“Go ahead,” Lee said, swallowing his nervousness.

“Your brother Stanford came earlier to make sure you were okay. He told us about your deal with Cipher and said Cipher was probably possessing you when you came here. Is that true?”

“He was, yes,” said Lincoln. A feeling of shame that more people knew of his foolish deal bubbled in his stomach.

“Do you know why he came here?”

“Not really,” Lincoln said. “He didn’t tell me where we were going or what we were doing. It wasn’t until we got here that I saw your people. And it wasn’t until my body had gotten hit by the spell that he told me that we were here to steal something.”

Andrew grimaced. “I feared as much. Were you a spirit when he told you?”

“Yes. I watched you carry my body from the cave to here.”

“I wasn’t here for that,” Andrew said, “which I’m sure Cipher knew. Did he seem to have planned this attempt beforehand?”

“Yes, he told me about it last night. Not any details, just that we were going to leave around noon today.”

Andrew rubbed at his forehead. “How? How did he know?” He didn’t seem to be asking Lincoln specifically, just thinking out loud.

“What does he know?” Lee asked. He didn’t know if he’d get an answer — since any information he knew was automatically information that Bill knew, and Andrew couldn’t risk giving anything away — but he still wanted to ask.

Sure enough, Andrew didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his head to Lincoln and asked, “Can you tell me exactly what happened before the spell hit you? So I can get an idea?”

“Sure. At about noon today—” Lincoln stopped. “Wait. Is it still the same day?”

Andrew nodded. “It’s late afternoon.”

“All right. Well, we left the Order headquarters at about noon, and we came straight here. We entered along the cliff line, so I didn’t see any minotaurs until I floated away from Cipher to look around. When I came back, Cipher was in front of a cave. He stepped forward to enter the cave, and that’s when the spell went off.”

“It was that fast? You just came here, and Cipher went right to the cave?”

“Yes. He seemed to know what he was doing. After the spell, he told me that he didn’t think you’d have magical defenses up yet.”

Andrew snorted. “Oh, we’re not nearly that careless.”

Lincoln glanced to his snow gear in the corner. “Then what are you doing to keep me here, exactly? If Cipher took over my body right now, what would stop him from escaping?”

“Well, Xítway would, for one,” said Andrew. Xítway, who was listening from across the hut, stood a little straighter at this. “For two, there’s a barrier around the hut that holds another knockout spell. You can’t get through.”

Lincoln nodded. Good to know. You hear that, Cipher? Don’t get me knocked out again.

“Can you tell me what Cipher was trying to steal?” Lincoln asked. “I understand if you can’t, but. . . well, he clearly knew what he was looking for and where it was.”

Andrew nodded grimly. “He must have known. But I’ll still be safe and keep the information from you. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” Lincoln glanced away, then back at Andrew. “You’re keeping me here so that Cipher can’t use me against you, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Andrew said, and he at least sounded apologetic. “May I ask. . . when did you make that deal with him?”

Lincoln closed his eyes briefly. “Twenty years ago. I was. . . in a bad place. Feeling desperate. He took advantage of that.” He sighed. “He doesn’t take over all that often; but now that he’s getting closer to escape, he’ll probably want to use me as much as he can. I agree that it’s best to keep me here.”

“So you’ll be a willing prisoner?”

“When I’m in my own body, yes. I can’t promise the same for Cipher.”

“No, you can’t,” Andrew said with a sigh. “I would ask that, if Cipher takes over, you don’t go leave this hut as a spirit. Since Cipher will later be able to see whatever you see.”

“All right,” Lincoln said, but his heart sank as he realized what this meant: He wouldn’t be leaving the hut, as a soul _or_ as a spirit, for who knew how long. It was like the cave all over again — except the cave had offered occasional glimpses of sunlight.

Andrew must have noticed the sorrow on Lincoln’s face, for he said, “I’m sorry. I feel bad keeping you here. But I can’t think of another choice that wouldn’t give Cipher an advantage against us.”

Lincoln understood, but he already felt that the hut was too small. He shook off the feeling. “While I’m here,” he said, “can you help me?” He explained his inability to join the Cipher Wheel and his hope that the creatures of the forest could help him.

Andrew nodded. “Stanford already asked us to help. We’ll do what we can.”

“Is there much you can do?”

Andrew hesitated. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Cipher’s deals are too strong to be broken by anyone other than Cipher himself. We’ll have to think of other solutions.”

Lincoln nodded, not feeling a lot of hope. Had he destroyed their chances entirely? Twenty years ago, had he ensured Cipher’s victory?

He didn’t want to think of that. It made him feel too guilty.

“Well, I’d better go,” said Andrew, getting to his feet. “It was nice to meet you. We’ll let Stanford know that you’re awake, and he should come back soon. We’ll do our best to help you feel comfortable while you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Lincoln whispered.

Andrew moved to the door of the hut. He was halfway through when Lincoln felt a tug on his soul.

“Wait,” Lincoln called. Now? Cipher was going to come now? At least he had let Lincoln and Andrew finish their conversation, but Lincoln had no desire to get pulled out of his body.

“What is it?” asked Andrew, turning to face him.

“Cipher’s coming,” Lincoln said. Andrew and Xítway exchanged alarmed glances as Lee added, “I think he wants to talk to you.”

~~~~~

“I’ll go talk to the minotaurs,” said Bill. “I’ll be back **later**.” With that, he disappeared.

Pacifica glanced at the spot where he’d been. She was in the kitchen, making herself dinner — or, attempting to make herself dinner. She frowned down at her ingredients and wondered if the Northwest servants would make her a meal if she went over to the Manor. She needed to talk to the servants anyway; maybe now was a good time.

If everything had gone according to plan, then Lincoln would be here making dinner. He would have successfully stolen the dagger, and Pacifica could use it to start the township. But he _hadn’t_ been successful, and he _wasn’t_ here. Instead, as Bill had told her, he had been captured by the minotaurs.

Pacifica was really worried for Lincoln. What would the minotaurs do to him? Would Bill help him escape? Pacifica had wanted to go immediately to the minotaurs to break Lincoln out, but Bill had forestalled her, saying that Lincoln was unconscious and that it wasn’t yet the time to rescue him. For now, Bill had said, she needed to make plans with the Northwest servants to rescue Lincoln and to steal the dagger. So, she thought, maybe she could go to the servants now _and_ get a decent meal out of it.

She sighed and started putting away the ingredients and dishes that she’d gotten out. All the while, she worried about Lincoln.

“Oh, poor Pacifica. You can’t go crying to Lincoln anymore. He’s getting tortured by the minotaurs, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

Pacifica grit her teeth. “Shut up, Mabel,” she said. “I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you.”

“And why’s that?” Spirit Mabel jumped onto the counter and swung her legs.

“I’m going to get rid of you, that’s why,” Pacifica replied. Even through her worry about Lincoln, she felt a small thrill as she thought about defeating Mabel. “I’m going to take the dagger from the minotaurs, and I’m going to run you through with it.”

Mabel made a disbelieving, scornful noise. “First of all, Bill told you that you can only cut my hand. I wouldn’t call that _running me through._ And second, that dagger probably doesn’t even exist. Bill is just leading you on. There’s no way to get rid of _me_.”

“You’re wrong,” Pacifica snapped. “My grandfather’s magic will work. The Northwests have plenty of technological resources, too.”

“Why use the Northwests? What happened to your precious cult?” Mabel’s eyes widened in mock distress. “Did they _abandon_ you?”

“They’re cowards,” Pacifica said. Half of the Order members hadn’t even shown up the other day to research the prophecies. They were all too worried about unimportant things like the effects of the gravitational anomalies or their families. “But they don’t matter,” Pacifica assured Mabel. “The Northwest servants will help me. We’re going to go to the minotaurs, steal the dagger, and rescue Lincoln. Then I can finally be free of you.”

“You’ll have to find the real me first,” said Mabel. She waved her hand through Pacifica’s shoulder, and Pacifica felt nothing but a ghostly chill. “I’m not physical, remember?”

“And thank Cipher for that,” Pacifica muttered. Then she forced a sweet smile onto her face. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll find the real you. Enjoy your last few days of existence.”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “It won’t work,” she said. “It’s not a magical dagger at all. And even if it were, Dipper would protect me against it. You’d only end up hurting him.”

Pacifica flinched. “I wouldn’t hurt him. I’ll make sure he’s not around.”

“Good luck with that. I keep him with me at all times.”

Pacifica scowled. Yes, Mabel _did_ keep Dipper with her at all times. He was like a bodyguard. An unsuspecting bodyguard who had no idea the monster who employed him.

Mabel raised an eyebrow and smirked, and Pacifica composed herself. “You can’t hide behind him all the time,” Pacifica said, keeping her voice calm. “You’ll slip. And when you do, I’ll be there with the dagger.”

Mabel rolled her eyes again, but Pacifica thought she saw a hint of fear in the spirit’s face. Good. She knew her time was limited. She knew Pacifica would win.

Pacifica turned away and left the kitchen, headed for the passage to the Northwest Manor. She could see Mabel in her periphery, following her, but she found the spirit easy to ignore. She could almost imagine what it would be like to have _no_ Spirit Mabel bothering her all the time. The thought cheered her immensely.

The first real smile in hours came to her face. Yes, Pacifica would win. She would get the dagger; she would make sure Lincoln was safe; she would find Mabel and get her out of the way.

And then Mabel could never hurt her again.


	9. Chapter 9

Fiddleford moved in and out of sleep for the rest of the day. He heard Melody talking with another female voice about Fidds’ recovery; he heard the voices of children as they complained to Melody about Ford leaving without them; he heard a deep, unfamiliar voice talking with Melody and Ford about something he couldn’t make out. Later that evening, he woke up long enough to eat another pureed meal and meet Dipper and Mabel Pines, but he soon slipped back into sleep.

The next time he awoke, the morning sun shone through the window. Fidds’ eyes blinked open, revealing two images of the room; Fidds squeezed his right eye shut again and removed the extra image. Where was his eyepatch?

He rolled over onto his shoulder — it was getting easier to move on his own — and looked for his eyepatch on the bedside table. There it was, under the lamp. Fidds reached out for it before seeing what was next to it.

Stanford Pines sat next to the bedside table. The men’s eyes locked, wide with surprise. 

“Fiddleford,” said Ford, his voice laced with hesitation.

Fidds grabbed his eyepatch and slipped it over his head. The slight pain in his right eye, which came from squeezing it shut, lessened as his eye blinked beneath the eyepatch. Then Fidds pushed himself to a sitting position. “Stanford,” he said with equal hesitation. Everything he’d thought of in the past few days to say to the man suddenly fled from his mind.

The men stared at each other.

Finally, Fidds’ tongue found the words. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m — I’m sorry.”

Ford blinked slowly, then lowered his head into his hands.

“Melody says that Stanley was here a few days ago.” Fidds didn’t know how long it had been since she’d said that, exactly, but he thought it was a few days. “Was he?”

“He was,” Ford said without raising his head.

“What was he. . . like?”

There was a moment of silence. Fidds immediately regretted the question — what kind of question was that, after _Fidds_ was the one responsible for the biggest change in Stanley since Ford had last seen him? What gave Fidds the right to ask about Stanley after what he’d done to him?

But he had to know. He clung to some thread of hope that the situation wasn’t as terrible as he feared.

Finally, Ford looked up. Fidds flinched beneath his gaze: It was hard, stony, _hateful_. “He didn’t remember me,” Ford said. “He said that being around me felt _familiar_ , but nothing more.”

Fidds had no idea how to respond.

“He became the leader of the Order,” Ford added, “twenty years ago. Was that your plan? To leave Lee a blank slate so that he would join _your_ side?”

Fidds flinched again. “N-no,” he said. “I was. . . I was doing what Cipher told me.”

Ford glared at him. “Don’t try to blame this on Cipher.”

Fidds shook his head. “No, I. . . I know it was my fault. I thought. . . I thought Cipher would reward me. But I never — I never should have done it.” His chest felt tight with emotion. “I ruined both of your lives.”

“Yes, you did,” Ford said venomously.

There was another silence as Fidds hung his head in shame.

Finally, “What happened?” asked Ford. “How did you end up in the other dimension and Lee at the Order? I remember Lee falling into the portal.”

Fidds nodded listlessly. “Because I erased your memory of his rescue.”

“ _What?_ ”

So Fidds told the entire story. It wasn’t hard: All the terrible things Fidds had done were engraved on his memory. He’d spent thirty years reliving the memories over and over again in his head and hating himself in every minute. He started the story back when he had joined the Order in 1978; he gave a brief explanation of his activity between that year and the year of 1982. He talked about the development of the memory gun (which Ford said had been destroyed, surprisingly enough) and Bill’s instructions for the interdimensional portal. Fidds told of shooting Ford and Lee the first time, of ripping out the pages in the third Journal that talked about Bill, of lying to Ford about Bill’s involvement with the portal construction, of planning with Bill to enter the demon’s dimension with Fidds as a vessel. He related, in painful clarity, the events of that ultimate day, when Fidds had shot both brothers, made Ford believe that Lee was lost on the other side of the portal, and erased Stanley’s memory entirely.

Ford listened in stony silence, save the occasional clarifying question.

Fidds described leaving Stanley at the Order, returning to the lab, and shooting Ford with a memory gun prototype to stop him from going after Lee. Then Fidds told of going down to the portal, getting momentarily possessed by Bill, and finding himself alone in a strange dimension. He tried to describe what it had been like: no movement, little awareness, just bright blackness and torturous memories of his misdeeds. He had completely lost track of time — he still had no idea if he’d been aware for all thirty years or if he’d been in and out of consciousness — until he’d seen himself in the mirror in Ford’s bathroom.

Ford’s expression cycled through pain, sorrow, and hatred as Fidds related the story. “And. . . now I’m here,” Fidds finished lamely. He was getting a headache; he wanted to go back to sleep. But he forced himself to stay awake.

Melody had entered the room near the beginning of Fidds’ story. She stood by the dresser with her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide with horror.

“Could I have some water, Melody?” asked Fidds. It took her a moment to respond, but she poured him a cup and brought it over. He gulped it down; his throat was dry from talking so much.

“How could you?” Ford whispered when Melody moved away. He seemed unable to say much more than that.

Fidds looked away. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing since I entered Cipher’s dimension.”

Another silence descended on the room. Ford seemed to have plenty of words running through his head, but he voiced none of them.

“I have to ask,” Fidds said. He hated the silence; it reminded him too much of Cipher’s empty dimension. “Mabel and Dipper told me that. . . that Stanley was a prisoner of the minotaurs.”

Ford nodded sullenly.

“They said you’ve been visiting him,” Fidds continued. His mind screamed at him to stop talking, but he had to keep going. “Can you take me with you?”

Ford jerked back in surprise. “No,” he said immediately. His initial shock gave way to venom as he continued, “No, of course not. I’m never letting you near Stanley again.”

“Don’t we need both of them for the Cipher Wheel?” Melody asked quietly. Ford glared at her.

“Please, Stanford, I know—” Fidds swallowed. “I know you have no reason to take me. But — but I _have_ to see him. I have to apologize to him.”

Ford turned his glare on Fidds. “You think that’ll fix it?”

“Nothing will fix it,” Fidds whispered. “But he has to know. I have to tell him I’m sorry.”

“You have no right to speak to him,” Ford said. “No right to be near him.”

“Ford, please,” Melody said. She came closer and spoke gently. “Fiddleford, I don’t think you can go outside yet. You’re still getting your strength back.”

“I need to see Stanley,” said Fidds.

“You are _not_ seeing Stanley!” snapped Ford. “It’s because of _you_ that he’s essentially Cipher’s slave now!”

Fidds flinched.

“Ford,” said Melody sternly, “that’s enough. No matter what Fiddleford did, he’s still my patient, and I won’t let you yell at him.”

“Excuse me?” Ford demanded. “He’s only still here because I allow him to be. If I wanted to throw him out on the street, I could.” He shot Fidds yet another venomous look, and Fidds couldn’t help but think that he certainly deserved to be thrown out on the street.

“No, in fact, you couldn’t,” Melody retorted. “He is still here because _I_ allow him to be. Don’t forget, Stanford Pines, that if I had reasonable cause, I could remove you from this house altogether and put you in a nursing home. _I_ am the one with the final say on who gets to stay here, and _I_ say that Fidds stays. Not only do we need him for the Cipher Wheel, but he needs our help. He stays, and _you_ do not get to hurt him.”

Her firm tone only seemed to incite Ford further. “I’m not hurting him!” he insisted. “He’s perfectly fine!”

“He is _not_ fine! Just look at him! He obviously feels terrible for what he did! Once he feels good enough, I absolutely think he should get a chance to apologize directly to Stanley!”

Ford’s face contorted with hatred. His voice lowered in volume, but not in acidity. “If he wants to stay here,” Ford said, “then maybe there’s nothing I can do to stop that. But I will _not_ let him near my brother.”

With that, he turned and swept from the room.

Melody let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Fiddleford,” she said after a moment of silence. “I’m sorry about him.”

Fidds glanced away from her. “Don’t be. He has every right to hate me.” It still hurt, somehow.

Melody opened her mouth to respond; but, before she could say anything, a loud crash shook the walls. Melody spun towards the door. “What is he doing?” She glanced back at Fiddleford. “I’m sorry, Fidds; I’ll be right back.” And she hurried out the door.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper entered the room. Their steps were slow, their expressions horrified. Fidds felt terrible seeing those expressions on their innocent faces. “Hello,” he said softly to the children — or, as softly as he could with the crashing noises and the muffled sounds of Ford and Melody yelling. Fidds’ headache had gotten worse, and it only grew with the current noise. Fidds forced himself to ignore the sounds and focus on the twins. “How much did you hear?”

“All of it,” said Dipper. “Whatever we could hear through the door. We wanted to come in with Melody earlier, but she told us not to.” He wouldn’t meet Fidds’ eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Fidds whispered. Whether he was apologizing for his past actions or for the fact that the children had to hear his story, he wasn’t sure.

Mabel had tears on her face, and she clung to Dipper’s hand. She stared at the floor.

“Did you really do nothing in the other dimension but think about Stanley?” Dipper asked.

Fidds nodded. “And Ford. And Bill’s lies. Whatever Ford says, I deserve.”

“He shouldn’t yell at you,” Mabel whispered.

Fidds looked to her, but she wouldn’t say anything else. And she didn’t raise her head to look at him.

Melody returned to the room. “All right, kids, let’s give Fidds some space. He needs his sleep.” She herded the children from the room, then came back to Fidds’ side. “There. Some peace and quiet.”

“What was Ford doing?” Fidds asked.

Melody sighed. “Throwing a tantrum. If he keeps going, he’ll destroy all the equipment in his lab.”

Fidds hardly thought that Ford’s grief over Stanley was best described as a “tantrum,” but he didn’t say so. Instead, “Thank you, Melody, for all your help,” he said. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”

She smiled softly at him, though he didn’t miss the pain mixed in with the smile. “That’s why you need it,” she said. “Go ahead and sleep now. I can tell you’ve been exhausted for a while.”

He hated how little energy he had, but Melody was right: He was exhausted. Telling the story of his sins had sapped his strength, and Ford’s reaction hadn’t helped. “Thank you,” he whispered again.

Melody came to his side and placed a hand on his forehead. “When you can,” she said, “we’ll get you to Stanley. For now, just rest.”

So Fidds obeyed. Melody took off his eyepatch, Fidds closed his eyes, and his headache faded away as he fell asleep.

~~~~~

Caleb hadn’t known that there was magic protecting the dagger. Of _course_ there was magic protecting the dagger.

Cipher had been angry, and Caleb couldn’t blame him. Last night, after a long and stressful day involving village repairs and Lincoln’s imprisonment, Caleb had slipped into his hut and contacted Cipher, only to receive a slew of criticism. Shouldn’t Caleb have known? Didn’t Andrew tell him almost everything? But Caleb hadn’t known; Andrew must have put the magic up recently and he just hadn’t mentioned it to Caleb yet. Caleb had apologized to Cipher, and Cipher had calmed down before long. “Well, we’ll just **try again** ,” Cipher had said. “Pacifica Pleasure, one of my Symbols and the **temporary leader** of the Order, will make **plans** to retrieve the dagger **and** rescue Lincoln. I’ll coordinate with **you** as well.”

Caleb had agreed, and he’d asked Cipher to tell Yingtai what had happened and that Caleb wouldn’t be able to contact her for a while. “My brother is already talking about a possible traitor,” Caleb said. “I shouldn’t talk to Yingtai until I get the dagger.”

“ **Good plan** ,” Cipher had agreed. “You wouldn’t want to act **suspicious**.”

Then Cipher had left, and Caleb had spent the rest of the night berating himself for his failure. If Caleb had known about the magical defenses and found some way to counteract them — not that he knew anything about magic, but still — then he could be with his wife and daughter already, not sitting all alone in his hut.

But he hadn’t blown their chances entirely, he kept telling himself. They could try again. They could still succeed.

The next morning, Caleb left first thing for his brother’s home. He wanted to be with his family — and he wanted to find out whatever he could about Andrew’s plans so that Cipher could know about them. But Andrew wasn’t there. “He’s already gone to talk to Stanley,” Moira said with a sigh. “I won’t try to stop him, but I was hoping that we could work on repairing the hut today.”

“I’ll help,” Caleb offered. He didn’t have anything better to do; it would be highly suspicious to sneak around and try to spy on Andrew. Plus, Cipher would already hear any conversation that Andrew had with Lincoln. Better for Caleb to stay here and help his sister-in-law, where he could stay out of suspicion _and_ help his family.

So, for the rest of the morning, Caleb helped Moira and her calves with repairs around the house. Caleb’s own hut, a small and lonely little building, had been mostly spared from damage during the anomalies, so he didn’t mind helping with Andrew’s and Moira’s hut. Moira gratefully accepted his help, and she gave him a ladder and sent him to the roof, where the majority of the damage was.

Caleb worked from the top of the ladder. The view from up here was both beautiful and a little disheartening. Beautiful because Caleb could practically see the whole village from here; disheartening because of the evident damage on so many of the buildings. Thankfully, it seemed that the village would be able to recover in a relatively short time. The residential huts would be repaired first; then the minotaurs would start on rebuilding the public buildings and other constructions, like the wrestling arenas. It would be nice to fix the arenas; Caleb enjoyed a good wrestle in them every once in a while.

From what Yingtai had told him, Candy would probably love the wrestling arenas. Caleb couldn’t wait to introduce her to them.

He was thinking about this, with a wistful smile on his face, when another ladder appeared next to his, and Enoch climbed up. “Hey, Uncle Caleb. I’ve got some more thatch. Need help?”

“Sure,” Caleb said. Enoch put a bundle of thatch on the roof. Caleb showed him how to create courses (small bundles of thatch) and fasten them to the roof’s fixings; Enoch got started.

“How are you doing?” Caleb asked once they’d gotten into a rhythm of work. He knew that Enoch had been shaken by the whole situation yesterday, when Lincoln had come to the village and had been found unconscious by the dagger’s cave.

Enoch didn’t answer for a small moment. The calf was rather quiet in nature, but Caleb knew that he’d likely come up here to talk. Caleb just had to encourage him to speak up.

“I had nightmares last night,” Enoch admitted. “I dreamt that Stanley ambushed me and — and took the dagger right from my hand, and there was nothing I could do.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Caleb replied.

Enoch shrugged. “They’re just nightmares. Papa says everything will be fine.”

Enoch’s tone of voice didn’t sound too reassured. “Do you believe him?” Caleb asked.

“I want to,” Enoch said. He worked in silence for a moment. Then, “But what if I mess it up?”

“What do you mean?”

Another uncomfortable shrug. “Papa wants me to spend time in the cave guarding the dagger personally. What if Cipher finds a way to get through the spell, and I’m the only one between him and the dagger, and I can’t protect it?”

Caleb didn’t respond at first. He wished he could reassure Enoch — because however Cipher got the dagger, it wouldn’t be Enoch’s fault. It would be Caleb’s.

But telling Enoch about that now wouldn’t be reassuring for him in the least.

“You won’t mess it up,” Caleb said. “And I’m sure the spell isn’t easy to get through.”

Enoch shook his head. “It’s definitely not easy. Papa says it’s tied to our bloodline: so only our family can get through.”

Caleb paused. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s genetic. Mama can’t get in, because she married into the family. But you could. Although I don’t think you’re supposed to.”

“Don’t worry; I’m not planning on it,” Caleb lied. His mind raced. He could get into the cave? He wouldn’t activate the barrier spell? He could waltz right in there and take the dagger?

He had to tell Cipher about this as soon as possible.

“You know,” Enoch said slowly, “I just got an idea.”

“What’s that?” asked Caleb. He tried to remain focused on his work despite his racing thoughts.

“I have to go guard the dagger soon,” Enoch said. “I wonder if Papa will let you come, too, and keep me company.”

It _did_ sound lonely for the calf to be all alone in the cave. Even if Caleb weren’t planning to steal the dagger, he’d probably still want to keep Enoch company. “That’s a good idea,” Caleb said. “I don’t know if Andrew will like it. But we should definitely ask.”

Enoch nodded. “We’ll have to wait for him to get back, though. He says I shouldn’t go anywhere near the hut where they’re keeping Stanley.”

“Why not?”

“Because then Cipher would know I exist,” Enoch said, shuddering a bit.

Caleb blinked. “Why can’t Cipher know you exist?” Bill _did_ know that Enoch existed; Caleb had mentioned the calf a few times before. But, of course, Enoch wasn’t aware of this.

“The less Cipher knows, the better,” Enoch recited. “That’s what Papa says. He says it’s a bit of a risk for _him_ to go talk to Stanley, but it’s a necessary risk. Someone has to negotiate with the demon.”

Caleb sighed inwardly. Enoch was just repeating the same misguided lines that Andrew had used since he was apprenticed to his and Caleb’s own father. Where would it end?

“I kind of want to go see him, though,” Enoch continued, turning back to his work. “Stanley, I mean. I want. . . I want to ask him why.”

“Why he came here?”

Enoch shook his head. “Why he made that deal with Cipher. You know, the one Papa told us about, that lets Cipher possess him? I. . . I can’t think of why anyone would make _any_ deal Cipher, much less one like that.”

“Maybe he needed something,” Caleb said. “Something only Cipher could give him.”

“What could that _demon_ give him?” Enoch asked incredulously.

Caleb forced himself not to flinch. Enoch didn’t understand Cipher’s mercy. Whatever Cipher had given Lincoln in exchange for the ability to possess him at will, it was surely worth it. Caleb had never made a formal deal with Cipher, but Cipher had still rewarded him for his help. He had promised that Caleb would be able to live in a safe place with Yingtai and Candy once they got to Cipher’s dimension. _That_ was something only Cipher could give.

“Uncle Caleb? Are you okay?”

Caleb glanced at Enoch. “I’m fine,” he said. “We’d better get to work if we want to get much done before you have to go to the cave.”

“Right.”

Uncle and nephew continued fixing the roof. Caleb found himself glancing out over the rooftops and looking to Lincoln’s prison hut, which he could see the top of from here. Apparently it would be simple to steal the dagger — much simpler than Caleb had feared. But what about rescuing Lincoln? The spell around _his_ hut, as Andrew had mentioned the night before, was similar to the one around the dagger’s cave, except that it barred only humans from passage. Lincoln wouldn’t be able to get through, and neither would Cipher’s human allies. Caleb had no idea how Cipher would circumvent that problem.

He pushed the problem from his mind for now and tried to focus on this time with his nephew. Enoch seemed subdued after their conversation, so Caleb did his best to pull the calf out of his emotional shell. He talked with Enoch, joked with him, encouraged him. It seemed to help.

After a while, Caleb saw Andrew heading back to the hut. “Here’s your papa,” Caleb said to Enoch.

The calf looked up. He seemed disappointed at first, but then he brightened. “We can ask him if you can come with me.”

As Caleb had expected, Andrew didn’t want him to go with Enoch. He didn’t seem suspicious — which was good — but he also didn’t want to invite Caleb to a place that was reserved for the guardian of Cipher’s prison. Only Andrew and Enoch were officially authorized to enter the cave.

“Sorry, Enoch,” Caleb said to the calf.

Enoch looked disappointed, but he didn’t argue. “Okay. Well, thanks for your help, Uncle Caleb.”

“That’s what uncles are for.”

Enoch left for the cave, and Andrew went inside to talk to Moira. Caleb stayed outside and finished the roofing job by himself. He thought about how lucky he was: He wasn’t supposed to go inside the dagger’s cave, but he _could_. He could visit Enoch while the calf was guarding the dagger, tell him that Andrew had allowed him to come, and then steal the dagger right from under him.

It was uncomfortable to think of stealing from his family. This betrayal — and Caleb knew full well that it was a betrayal — would be painful for everyone involved. In order to be with his wife and daughter, Caleb would have to hurt the rest of his family. Andrew would be crushed that Caleb was working with Cipher, and Caleb dreaded the look on his face when he found out. Same with Enoch.

But Caleb had to keep going. They were so close. It wasn’t too long before Caleb could be with _all_ of his family — the humans as well as the minotaurs. Surely he would be able to help Andrew and Enoch and everyone else see the truth: that Cipher was merciful, that his help would allow Caleb to live with his family. Surely they could get to a point where Andrew could accept Yingtai as his sister-in-law.

It would be a painful road. Caleb knew that.

But it would all work out in the end.


	10. Chapter 10

The Mystery Museum was getting crowded. Mabel was starting to feel pretty claustrophobic.

They were gathering as many Symbols as they could to the Museum, and Andrew the minotaur had visited a few times and put defensive magic around the building. Dipper had enthusiastically introduced Mabel to his minotaur friend, and Mabel thought that Andrew was pretty cool. And he seemed to know a lot about magic, which was fascinating.

But he wouldn’t explain anything to Mabel. If Mabel knew, then Bill knew. Only Ford could know the details of the magic. It drove Mabel crazy. While Ford was working with Andrew outside or behind closed doors, Mabel was left to stew inside, trapped with Dipper, Gideon, Melody, Fidds, and the growing number of guests.

First was Robbie — and his parents. Ford and Andrew had gone to get one person and had come back with three. The Corduroys brought cots and sleeping bags and other supplies — like they were going camping — and set up inside the Hall of Mysteries (after Melody had instructed the twins and Gideon to clear out many of the displays). Everyone had been wary of Greg and Janice at first, though they (and Robbie) had insisted that they were no longer helping Bill. Greg even apologized directly to Mabel for his part in helping Pacifica kidnap her.

It was even more awkward than hearing about it from Dipper.

Mabel still wasn’t sure about letting Robbie’s parents stay at the Museum. (Gideon grumbled that he’d be able to judge their sincerity in a second, if only he had his amulet.) But Andrew seemed to trust them, which helped the Pines do the same. The minotaur pointed out that it was safest for everyone if they stayed here, because then Bill couldn’t send the Northwest servants to harass the Symbols’ families while the Symbols were safe in the Museum.

Robbie also told the twins what had happened since he’d last seen Ford and Dipper. He and his parents had had many long talks, trying to figure things out. The barrier around the town, causing a car accident and general panic; the guilt that arose when Ford and Lee had found each other after thirty years of lies; Dipper’s outburst and accusations about the Corduroys kidnapping Mabel — all these factors helped the Corduroys see the harm caused by Bill and the Order.

So now Mabel had to share a house with them. They mostly stayed out of the way, but mealtimes got crowded.

And it only got worse when the Valentinos joined them.

The morning after the Corduroys came, Ford, Andrew, and Robbie went to Wendy’s house. Like the first time they’d gone, Wendy had been originally unwilling to listen to them — but seeing a minotaur outside her house had stunned her enough to change her mind. Andrew was living proof of the supernatural — proof that Ford and Robbie weren’t just making things up. Wendy still wasn’t happy to be part of the Cipher Wheel, but she, her father, and her three brothers had all come to the Museum to join what Dipper was calling the “Symbol refuge.”

That made eight Symbols and six others staying in the Museum. The Corduroys and the Valentinos shared the Hall of Mysteries; Gideon slept on the couch; Ford slept on the air mattress in the attic; the twins were in their room; and Melody and Fiddleford were in Ford’s room. The kitchen got so crowded that they started eating meals in shifts, and the adults took turns cooking.

Mabel felt decidedly trapped. How long would they have to stay like this? It was already Wednesday, the ninth of January: only three days before she and Dipper were supposed to go home. Was there any chance of getting out of this in time? It didn’t feel like there was.

Eight Symbols were ready and willing to form the Cipher Wheel. Fiddleford still got tired easily, but he was fully on board with defeating Bill. Wendy seemed scared, and she stayed out of sight for most of the time; but Robbie was confident that she would help when it really came down to it. Mabel hoped he was right.

But what about Pacifica? Mabel tried not to think about Pacifica and the unlikelihood of her joining them; that thought always sent her into a mild panic. Even if Pacifica were willing to fight against Bill (which Mabel knew she wasn’t), would she be able to work with Mabel? Could Mabel ever be safe around her?

Then there was Grunkle Lee. Ford had spent a lot of time the last two days in the minotaur village, visiting Lee and brainstorming about how he could join the Cipher Wheel. There didn’t seem to be much progress, from what Ford reported to the others later. Lee had decided against getting a metal plate, which surprised the twins and Gideon; but Ford said that it would only make his situation worse. Bill had butted into the brothers’ conversation and informed them that, should Lee install a metal plate in his head, Bill would just have to take over even _more_ often to get information about where Lee was and what he was doing. And apparently Bill had altered Lee’s mind as part of various deals between the two; if Lee blocked Bill from his mind, then, at best, Lee would be stuck with the magical alteration forever. At worst, the magic from Bill and the magic from the nymphs would mix in unknown and dangerous ways.

Ford told the others about a few other ideas, but none seemed likely to work. Even though Bill was a prisoner, the demon still had immense power over Lee.

Mabel wished so badly that she could visit Lee. So did Dipper (and he loudly reminded Ford of this at nearly every chance he got). But it was too dangerous, Ford told them. Only here at the Museum, where Andrew’s magic protected them, would Dipper and Mabel be safe.

“Then how come _you_ get to leave?” Dipper asked.

“Because Bill can’t see me. Lee needs me, and I can also make plans with the minotaurs and the nymphs.”

So Ford got to go outside, but Mabel and Dipper were stuck in a crowded house. Their one breath of fresh air was when they brought in the sledge and barrels from the totem pole. Then they watched as Danny Valentino, a construction worker, replaced the gift shop’s broken window; they pored over the Journals with Gideon; they hung out with Robbie (and Wendy, though she was usually crabby) and with Fidds (who was quickly getting stronger). Dipper wanted to spend time with Andrew, too, when he’d come over yesterday and today, but Andrew had mostly talked in private with Ford.

That evening, Mabel, Dipper, and Gideon were sitting at the kitchen table with Fidds. The four of them had been the last group of people to eat dinner, so they could sit and talk while Melody cleaned up. Dipper had offered to help Melody, but she’d turned him down with a smile, telling him to sit and listen to Fidds.

Fiddleford was in the middle of a story about himself and Ford, back in their adventuring days. Mabel liked hearing Ford tell stories like this, but Fidds had a different way of telling them that made them even more interesting. His stories focused more on Ford’s reckless side and Fidds’ own desperation to stay safe; they were more comedic than anything, the way Fidds told them. After a particularly funny statement, Fidds would sometimes lose himself in a good memory and give a warm, crinkly smile as he laughed.

Mabel liked it when Fidds smiled. He didn’t do it too often; he usually seemed to be lost in sad memories involving the bad things he’d done. But when he smiled, it helped Mabel see the good in him. When it came down to it, she liked him — regardless of what he’d done — and his rare smiles reminded her of that.

“So,” Fidds was saying, “you wouldn’t think that gnomes could do much damage, right? They’re just little pests. Well, that’s what we thought, but we were wrong. After Ford and I turned away, they started to swarm together, and. . .”

Fidds trailed off as Ford appeared in the kitchen entrance. Instantly, a guarded look appeared on both men’s faces. “Hi, Ford,” Fidds said carefully.

Ford’s eyes glanced over Fidds and landed on the twins. “Meeting in the Hall of Mysteries. Everyone needs to be there.”

“Will Andrew be there?” Dipper said, getting to his feet. Andrew and Ford had been outside, working on the magic around the house, and they hadn’t allowed anyone to join them for fear of Bill seeing what they were doing.

“Yes,” Ford said shortly. He turned and left the room.

Melody let out a loud breath. “Well, _he_ knows how to ruin a good mood. Sorry about him.”

“He must have thought it was getting too cheerful in here,” Gideon said with a roll of his eyes. Mabel was pretty sure Gideon enjoyed Fidds’ stories as much as the twins did, though he didn’t say as much out loud.

Melody came over to wipe down the table as the others got to their feet. “I’ll join you in a minute,” she said. “Will you be all right, Fidds?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. He glanced at his walker, which was nearby, then shook his head and left without it. Mabel, Dipper, and Gideon followed him. Mabel braced herself for the Hall of Mysteries.

It wasn’t as crowded as she’d thought. The Hall was used to groups of twenty to thirty tourists, so three Pines, three Corduroys, five Valentinos, Fidds, and Gideon weren’t too many people.

What _was_ strange was the large minotaur in the room. Andrew looked a little like a display in the Hall of Mysteries, except that he was too real for the mostly fake exhibits (many of which had been moved to the gift shop to make room for the guests). Mabel gave Andrew a tentative smile, then glanced around at the others. Dipper had immediately gone to Andrew’s side and happily greeted the minotaur; Ford stood quietly to the side; Fidds had gone over to them and was waiting patiently (and a bit nervously) for Andrew to notice him; Gideon regarded Andrew with silent curiosity; Robbie was smiling as he watched Dipper; Wendy clung to Robbie’s arm and had a look of frightened hostility on her face; Janice and Greg seemed uncomfortable; Danny Valentino looked like he was trying to be nonchalant (but failing); and the three Valentino boys were staring at Andrew with open-mouthed awe. Everybody had met Andrew before, but being in an enclosed room with him made him seem bigger than seeing him while he was outside.

“Where’s Melody?” Ford asked.

“She’s coming,” Dipper said. “What are we meeting for?”

“I’ll tell you once Melody gets here,” Andrew said.

“Okay,” Dipper said. “Hey, I think Fidds wants to talk to you.”

Fidds flinched just a bit, but he managed to compose himself as Andrew turned to him. “How can I help you?” the minotaur asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about, um. . .” Fidds glanced at Ford, who was standing on the other side of Andrew. “About visiting Stanley,” Fidds finished.

At that moment, Melody walked in. “Oh, good, you’re here,” Ford said loudly. “Let’s get started.” He gave Fidds a stern look and headed over to the rest of the group.

Mabel didn’t think it was fair for Ford to act that way toward Fidds, but she wasn’t going to say anything. She and Gideon went over to Robbie (the boys gave each other a measured glance; they were, at least, generally civil to each other, which Mabel appreciated), and Dipper and Fidds joined them.

“Go ahead and sit down,” Andrew invited. He sat cross-legged on the floor, giving the ceiling a wary look, and gestured for the others to do the same. The Corduroys and Valentinos sat in camp chairs that they’d brought to the Museum; the others sat on the floor. Mabel noticed with a fleeting sense of annoyance that Wendy had scooted her chair as close as she could to Robbie’s and was still clinging to his arm.

“There, that’s better,” Andrew said with a smile. “I’m not used to human architecture.”

Dipper laughed. No one else did.

“I’m glad you’re all here,” Andrew continued. “We need you. We need the Cipher Wheel. We’re still down two people, but eight out of ten is good. And thanks to the Corduroys and the Valentinos for coming while we gather the Wheel. I’m sorry to force you from your homes, but everyone’s safer here.”

“How exactly are we safe?” Danny demanded. “I don’t see you doing anything but walking around the building saying weird words. And who are we in danger from?”

Wendy made a disgusted noise at her dad’s outburst, but Andrew nodded and said, “Stanford and I haven’t been very transparent with you, I’m sorry. Our enemy can see into the minds of humans, and only Stanford is immune, so we mostly have to keep things between us.”

“Why is Stanford immune?” said Danny.

“Because I have a slab of metal in my skull, Valentino,” said Ford, annoyed. “If you want one, I’m sure you could get one, though you’d have to politely convince the nymphs to help you.” Clearly, he doubted that Danny had the capacity to be polite.

“You have a _what_ in your skull?”

“Let’s stay focused,” Andrew said. “You asked how we were safe. I finished with the spell today; it’s a bit more complicated than ones I’ve done in the past. Everyone in this room has access to leave and reenter the Museum. So if you need to get something, like Danny did when he got the materials to fix the window, you’ll be able to. I recommend stockpiling everything you need now, though, because you’re vulnerable outside.”

“Vulnerable to _what_?” Danny asked, exasperated.

“Let me finish,” Andrew replied. “Others can only enter the Museum if you allow them to. Otherwise, they’ll hit an invisible barrier and fall unconscious for a few hours.”

Melody made a concerned noise. “Maybe we should mark the perimeter with some kind of warning. I wouldn’t want anyone to accidentally hit the barrier and freeze in the snow.”

“The way you let us freeze a few days ago?” Janice muttered. Greg put a hand on her arm.

“Good idea,” Andrew said to Melody, “because if someone does hit it, you can’t bring them in to help them. To let someone in the barrier, you have to be touching them as they enter. A hand on their shoulder would be enough. But if you let them enter once, they would then be able to pass through the barrier at will. If the person were an ally of Cipher, you wouldn’t want to give them that access.”

At the words “ally of Cipher,” Mabel resisted the urge to glance at Greg and Janice. Andrew seemed to be avoiding the phrase “member of the Order” for their sake. That, and apparently the Northwest servants were the people the Symbols needed to worry about now.

“Besides Lee and Pacifica, I don’t know of anyone we’d want to bring in,” Ford said, “and even those two are. . . dangerous.” His face twisted when he called Lee dangerous, but he did it all the same. “Can we all agree not to let anyone in unless we decide together that it’s a good idea?”

“What about Greyson and Candy?” Dipper said. “I want them to be safe too.”

“Candy’s mother is an Order member,” Gideon said, “so we shouldn’t invite the Chius. And I doubt Cipher cares about the Grays.”

“But I do,” Dipper said.

“Sorry, Dipper, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Andrew said gently. “The more people we have here, the more risk there is of Cipher getting to someone. Speaking of which, this might be uncomfortable, but I need you all to be honest with me. Has anyone seen Bill Cipher in their dreams since the gravitational anomalies?”

Everyone hesitated. Then Gideon raised his hand. Understandable, since Bill was still sending Gideon nightmares every night. After a moment, Robbie raised his hand, too. Then he nudged Wendy, who reluctantly put her hand up as well. Janice and Greg both raised their hands.

Andrew nodded. “What has he said to you?” he asked.

Those with their hands raised looked even more reluctant now. “Well,” Gideon said bluntly, “he’s been having fun sending me nightmares. He knows it’s not going to bring me to his side, but he’s trying to wear me down.”

Mabel shot him a sad look. He returned her gaze with a small, reassuring smile. I’m not going to give in, that smile said. It’ll be okay.

She didn’t know if he believed that.

Greg spoke next. “He’s been trying to convince Janice and me to keep helping him.”

“And will you?” Andrew replied. “Please understand: If there’s any chance that you’ll try to get in the way of the Cipher Wheel, we can’t let you stay here.” He spoke kindly, but it was clear he wouldn’t change his mind.

Greg and Janice shared looks. “No,” Greg said, “we won’t. What you’ve told us about what Cipher will do to Robbie if he gets the chance. . . well, we won’t give him that chance.”

An alarmed expression jumped to Robbie’s face. Mabel looked in surprise to the Corduroys; she hadn’t known that they’d spoken to Andrew.

Janice leaned forward and put a hand on Robbie’s shoulder. “We won’t let anything happen to you,” she said softly.

Mabel searched the Corduroys’ faces. They seemed sincere. Mabel wondered how they were feeling, now that they’d finally faced the fact that Bill and the Order were evil. Such a realization, after years of thinking the opposite, had to be hard on them.

“And what did Cipher say to you, Robbie?” Andrew asked gently.

Robbie shrugged uncomfortably. “He showed up, introduced himself, pretended to be innocent. Got angry when I saw through his act.” He looked warily at Andrew. “What did you tell them Cipher would do to me?”

Andrew sighed — a heavy sigh, as if he were resigned to what he had to say but not looking forward to it. “Well, that’s another thing I needed to tell you all.”

He hesitated, and in the silence, Wendy spoke up. “In case anyone cares,” she said, “Cipher tried the same thing on me that he did on Robbie. It didn’t work.” Robbie put a comforting hand on hers; she glared at him.

“Good, I’m glad you resisted him,” Andrew said to them. He looked out across the group. “If Cipher appears in any of your dreams, don’t listen to him, all right? No matter what he says. He’s deceiving you. He’s been doing it for centuries.”

Greg and Janice looked guiltily to their laps.

“What do you need to tell us?” Dipper prompted.

Andrew hesitated again. “Well,” he finally said, “I’ll tell you the reason you all need to stay here in the Museum. Cipher wants to capture you.”

“And do what with us?” Gideon asked. Mabel gave him a scared look. Was this it? Would Andrew tell them the reason Bill needed them alive?

“And. . . use you,” Andrew said. “I can’t think of a good English verb for it, I’m sorry. He needs your energy to escape his prison. He would take your energy — your life force — from you, and you would die.”

Various cries of outrage and fear spurted from the small crowd. Mabel went cold; Dipper grabbed her hand.

“That’s what we’re protecting you from,” Andrew continued. “That’s why you need to stay here.”

“Isn’t that just helping him?” Robbie asked. “If we’re all in one place, and he manages to get in, then he could just kill all of us.” His face was pale.

“It’s better than having you all spread out,” Andrew said; his voice was certain, as if he’d thought about this already. “It has to be one at a time, so he’d have to come back here over and over.”

“But if he manages to kill one of us,” Gideon said, “then we’d have no chance at the Cipher Wheel.” He spoke as if realizing this even as he said the words.

“That’s true,” Andrew said. “There’s a slight possibility that somebody else would become a Symbol if one were lost. But that’s pure conjecture, and we won’t let it get to the point where we have to test the theory.”

“You’d better not!” Danny Valentino had been shell-shocked when Andrew had announced that eight people in the room were at risk of dying; but now, after doing his best to comfort his sons, he had pulled himself together into a rage. “I’m not letting anyone near my Wendy!”

“That’s why I’m here,” Andrew said. “To keep you all safe from that.”

“Thank you,” Fiddleford said quietly. Mabel agreed, but she found herself too paralyzed to say anything. That was the reason? Bill needed them alive so he could kill them? Not just kill them, but drain them of their lives?

“So it’s a race,” Gideon said. “A race between Cipher stealing whatever he’s trying to steal that will help him kill us, and us forming the Cipher Wheel.”

“Yes,” Andrew said.

“Has anyone tried to talk to Pacifica?” said Gideon. “Has anyone tried to convince her to help us?”

“Lee did, before he ended up with the minotaurs,” Ford said. “He said she thought he’d been tricked. That we’d done something to mess with his mind.”

“Bill is messing with _her_ mind,” Dipper blurted.

“We need to find her,” Gideon said. “We need to keep trying. She could be doing who knows what to help Cipher right now. We need her on our side.”

“That girl’s crazy,” Robbie said.

“Yes, thank you, Corduroy,” Gideon replied coolly. He looked back at Andrew. “Someone needs to counteract whatever Cipher’s telling her. We need to help her.”

“At the very least,” Dipper said, “somebody needs to get her out of the way.”

Andrew and Ford shared a look that told Mabel they’d be talking more about this later, when no one — Bill included — could hear them.

“What about Lee?” Fidds asked. “Any breakthroughs?”

Andrew lowered his head. “Only theories.”

“I thought the whole forest was trying to help him,” Dipper said. “Shouldn’t you guys find _something_?”

“Like I said, only theories,” Andrew replied. “Things that might work, but that we’d need to try out with the rest of the Cipher Wheel. I know plenty of powerful people, but Cipher’s deals can prevail against their magic. It was a miracle that our ancestors were able to trap him in the first place; as it is, he still has the advantage if he convinces someone to make a deal.”

“And Lee made the worst deal possible,” Ford said quietly.

Andrew gave a reluctant nod.

“It sounds to me, then,” said Gideon, “that we need to get Pacifica on our side, bring Lee to the rest of the Wheel, and try out those theories. Or, if we can’t convince her, can we at least kidnap her and force her to join us?”

“Participation has to be willing,” Andrew answered with a shake of his head.

Gideon gave a frustrated growl. “Okay, then, is there magic out there that can heal her? She went crazy after Dipper broke her amulet; it must’ve messed with her mind.”

“She was crazy before,” Dipper pointed out.

“But not _as_ crazy. Trust me. I’d know.” Gideon leaned forward. “Look, Andrew. Let me go to the Order. Let me talk to her. Cipher already allowed me to stay here, even before you came. Maybe he would leave me alone if I went to her.”

“How would you get down there?” Janice asked. “We changed the code after the Pines took the first Journal, and I’m sure they’ve changed it since Greg and I came here.”

“There’s a passage to the Order from the Northwest Manor; I could go from there.”

“There’s no way they’d let you through,” Ford said. “I’m sure they’d have ways to catch you, even if you sneak in. Just because Cipher is letting you stay here doesn’t mean he won’t stop you from going after Pacifica.”

“I have to do _something_ ,” Gideon said.

Mabel understood that feeling. It was maddening to stay here while Ford and Andrew did things. She wanted to be helpful. She practically had the Journals memorized at this point, but she kept searching through them, hoping for something, _anything_ , that could suggest a solution to their problems. She wanted to be a part of things.

At the same time, though, it was scary to think of leaving the Museum and being kidnapped by Northwest servants or whatever other creepy minions Bill had.

“I’m sorry, Gideon,” Andrew said. “I hate to say it, but right now the best thing you can do is to stay here and wait.”

From the look on Gideon’s face, he wasn’t happy with this answer in the least. Mabel put a hand on his arm and gave him an empathetic look.

“Andrew,” said Melody, “you said earlier that we should stockpile our supplies. I worry about having enough food. Not just for us, but for the rest of the town. The grocery store won’t be able to get new supplies with the barrier around town, and we’ll have to ration food. . . . Is there anything you could do to help?”

Ford answered before Andrew could. “People around here are prepared,” Ford said, “and I’m sure they have food storage. I can get some food storage from my bunker, too, and bring it here.”

“Oh, no,” said Dipper. “Not that again.”

Ford gave him a stern look. “It’ll keep us alive.”

“Good plan,” Andrew said. “My people can also share some of our food if necessary; we keep a good amount of storage. I am concerned, though, about your electricity. If the township starts, won’t you lose power?”

“Wait a minute,” said Greg, frowning. “Why _do_ we still have power? Aren’t we cut off from the rest of the dimension?”

“Yes, which is what worries me,” Andrew said. “I don’t know how you still have power, but the township hasn’t moved. Maybe we’re still somewhat connected to the rest of the dimension. But we won’t be if Cipher manages to start the ship.”

Mabel didn’t know much about the township; Ford and Andrew wouldn’t explain it. But Gideon had told Mabel what he knew from what he’d read in the Order library. It was easiest for him to describe it as a metaphorical boat, with the other dimensions as the sea that it was sailing over. Sailing to Cipher’s freedom.

“What should we do, then?” Ford asked. “Will personal generators and batteries still work?”

“I’m not sure. We shouldn’t count on it,” Andrew replied. “My people have magical means of heat and light that we can share with you and the rest of the town. I’ll send a group tomorrow with supplies, and Ford can get food from his bunker.”

“The Order uses firelit lanterns in their headquarters,” Gideon said. “We should go down there, get some lanterns in case we lose electricity, and get Pacifica. Don’t you have some kind of magical way to get through the door?”

“We’ll try that, too,” Andrew said. It was pretty obvious that his “we” didn’t include Gideon.

“We should go back home and get our own supplies,” Janice said, gesturing to herself, Greg, and Danny. “We brought some already, but we can get more food. And flashlights and batteries.”

“Okay, but be careful,” Andrew said.

“Why would we be careful? It’s not like a demon is trying to murder us,” Wendy muttered.

“Janice and I might be able to help with distributing supplies to the rest of the town, too,” Greg said, “and act as. . . intermediaries for you. Other Order members might be willing to help as well.”

Andrew looked thoughtful. “Let’s talk about that after we’re done in here. Anything else we need to discuss?”

“Yeah,” Dipper said. “When can me and Mabel visit Grunkle Lee?”

“Dipper, I’ve already said—” Ford began.

“Fidds wants to, too! And I think he should. And Mabel and I should, too.”

“A quick visit wouldn’t hurt,” Andrew said slowly. “We could go right after this, even.”

“Yes! Let’s do that!” said Dipper.

“Isn’t it too dangerous at this time of night?” Ford asked.

Andrew shrugged. “We’ll go with June. We won’t go anywhere dangerous.”

“Could I. . .” Fidds swallowed. “Could I talk to you in private, Andrew?”

“Sure, after I’ve talked to the Corduroys.” Andrew let out a breath. “Well, thank you everyone for being here. Let Ford or me know if you have any other questions. Greg, Janice?”

Greg and Janice followed Andrew out of the Hall of Mysteries; after a moment, Ford joined them.

Danny got to his feet. “Wendy,” he said, and his voice shook. “Come here, baby girl.”

Wendy looked embarrassed, but she did what her dad said. Danny wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug and held her tightly. Her three brothers joined the hug; the Valentinos were quiet for a moment.

“We’re going to visit Grunkle Lee!” Dipper whispered excitedly to Mabel. “Finally!”

“He’s only been with the minotaurs for two days,” Gideon pointed out.

“And June could’ve taken us to see him in an instant,” Dipper said. “It’s felt more like two years.”

Dipper was right that the last few days had felt slow. Had it really been less than a week since the gravitational anomalies? At least they had been able to reset their clocks. Lee’s plan to spread the correct time around town via the Order had worked, and Mabel was pretty sure most clocks around town had been reset. That was a relief. And they were able to use their calendars — which they’d somehow overlooked during the time bubble — to see what day of the week and month it was. The time jump was still confusing, but Mabel felt like she could adjust easier now.

Robbie got up from his camp chair and sat down by the twins. “I’m glad you kids get to visit your uncle,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s great!” Dipper said. Then he noticed the pale look on Robbie’s face and the tremor in his hands. “Hey, you okay, Robbie?”

Robbie gave a shaky laugh. “Sure, I’m okay. Only found out that a demon wants to kill me.”

“The rest of us, too,” Gideon said.

“Not helpful, Northwest.”

“Don’t fight, guys,” Mabel said quietly. It was the first thing she’d said since leaving the kitchen.

“Sorry, Mabel,” Robbie said. “Are you doing okay?”

She shrugged. “I’m glad we get to go see Grunkle Lee,” she said. She didn’t mention the terror simmering in her stomach now that she knew what Bill wanted to do to her.

“Ooh, Mabel, you get to see the minotaur village! You’ll love it!” Dipper talked about the village for a few more minutes, and Mabel tried to listen to him. She noticed Melody and Fidds talking softly nearby, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. The Valentinos had retreated to the back of the Hall of Mysteries, away from the rest of the group.

“—and the minotaurs have really cool wrestling names, too, like — oh, hi, Andrew!”

Andrew had stuck his head back through the doorway. “Hi, Dipper. Fiddleford, you wanted to talk to me?”

Fidds got to his feet. “Yes. And. . . and just you, if you would.”

So Fidds left the room with Andrew, and Ford and the Corduroys came back in. Robbie went to talk with his parents, and Ford sat sullenly next to Melody. “Fidds is _not_ going anywhere near my brother,” he said.

“I see no reason why he shouldn’t,” Melody said calmly.

That comment set off a quiet argument between Melody and Ford. Mabel did her best to tune them out and listen to Dipper, who had gone back to talking about the minotaurs and their wrestling matches. After a while, Andrew reappeared in the doorway. “All right, let’s go see Stanley.”

“Yeah!” Dipper jumped to his feet and tugged Mabel to hers. “Let’s go!”

Ford stood. “Fiddleford won’t be coming with us,” he told Andrew firmly.

“No, not now,” Andrew said. He didn’t react to Ford’s hostility. Instead, he turned to Dipper and Mabel. “Ready?”

“Ready!” said Dipper.

Andrew left, and the twins and Ford followed. Mabel felt a little lighter now that she was going to see Lee. It was hard to ignore the weight of everything they’d just talked about, but she was determined to try.

It only took a few minutes to get their winter gear and leave the Museum. They went out in the darkness to the tree where June would appear to get them.

Dipper linked his arm in Mabel’s. “Let’s go see our grunkle,” he said happily.


	11. Chapter 11

Lee hated being a prisoner of the minotaurs.

Yes, he was treated well: The hut was magically kept warm; the minotaurs had brought him a real cot to sleep on instead of the hard bench; Xítway was a fine conversationalist. Other minotaurs came to visit sometimes, too, and Ford came often. Ford had come the evening of January seventh — the day Lincoln had been taken captive — and he made a point to visit at least once a day after that. Lee was glad for his company, even if Xítway had to tie Lee’s hands to a stake every time Ford came to visit. She untied them after Ford was inside, and it was worth it to Lee if it meant spending time with his brother.

But, despite the minotaurs’ efforts to keep Lee comfortable, Lee still found himself restless and noticeably _un_ comfortable. The hut felt barely big enough to breathe, and there was certainly no room to run around and siphon off energy. Lincoln tried to exercise as best he could in the small space: pushups, running in place, throwing punches at the air (and sometimes at a willing Xítway, who turned out to be a great sparring partner). But it didn’t feel like enough. Lee wished he could leave the hut and run around outside.

Besides the physical confines of the hut, there were also frequent reminders of Lincoln’s spiritual bondage to Bill Cipher. After the first conversation between Andrew and Bill (which seemed to have shaken Andrew more than he wanted to admit), the minotaurs insisted on making “possession checks” on Lee. This meant asking the question, “Who are you?” at random times. If Bill was possessing Lincoln, the demon would have to answer, “I’m Bill Cipher”; the magic of his prison would compel him. If Bill _wasn’t_ possessing Lincoln, then Lincoln could simply answer that he was himself.

But Lincoln didn’t know who “himself” was.

The first few times Xítway asked, “Who are you?”, Lincoln answered that he was Lincoln. But. . . that didn’t feel right. “Lincoln” was the name of the man who had been kidnapped by Percy, who had been brainwashed by Bill. “Lincoln” was the name of the leader of the Order, and Lee certainly had no desire to have _that_ job any longer.

So he stopped answering Lincoln and started saying, “Lee.” It was the only name that described him both before and after his memory loss. Yet it felt too short, too simple to really describe him. Was “Lee” really the name of a man who had lost his memory, his brother, his freedom? Could he be Lee again, with the things he’d done and the cult he’d led?

He didn’t answer Stanley. The name Stanley felt too removed from the reality of who he was. Stanley had been an energetic man with a simple love for his brother. Stanley hadn’t dealt with demons. Lincoln didn’t deserve the name, and it wasn’t an accurate description.

Who was he, then? Lincoln, Lee, Stanley? Someone else entirely? He only felt more confused the more he thought about it.

The hours dragged on. The entire experience of his captivity reminded Lincoln of his first year at the Order, before he made his very first deal with Bill. The restlessness, the feeling that he didn’t belong here — it was similar to that year in the eighties. This time, however, Lincoln didn’t have his anger to cushion his frustration. Bill had taken it away when he’d taken Lincoln’s soul. Whenever Lee thought that he should be getting angry, he only slipped back down into despondency and depression. His emotions couldn’t crest the hill to anger; they could only linger in the valley of melancholy. He had to force himself to move, to exercise, to do _something_ other than lay on his cot and stare at the thatched ceiling of the hut.

By the morning of January tenth, only three days after Lincoln had been taken captive by the minotaurs, he felt pushed to his limit. The small hut, the possession checks, the depression — it all threatened to crush him. When Xítway brought Lee his breakfast (which had been brought to the hut by another minotaur; Xítway never left Lincoln’s side), she asked her customary, “Who are you?”

Lincoln squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know,” he said, “but I’m not Bill.”

He opened his eyes, and he thought he saw Xítway looking at him in pity (insofar as he could read her facial expressions). “I’m sorry, Lee,” she said. “I know this is hard.”

He ate the first bite of his breakfast: a simple oatmeal-type dish. “I’m sure it’s hard on you, too,” he said. “You’re almost as trapped as I am.” Xítway had made the hut into her temporary home while she had the assignment to guard Lincoln. She hadn’t left at all — which made Lee feel both grateful, because he was never alone, and stifled, because he was never alone.

“I suppose you could say that,” Xítway said. “I don’t mind, though. I’ll do what the elders tell me to do.”

Lee glanced at her. “What’s the plan for today? More brainstorming with Andrew?”

“I think he’s going to come later, yes,” said Xítway.

For the past few days, Andrew (and occasionally others, like Ford and Juniper the hamadryad) had talked with Lincoln about ideas to help him join the Cipher Wheel. The conversations were hardly uplifting: First, they considered using nymph magic to block Bill from Lee’s mind, but the demon had taken over Lee’s body and told them every reason why that wouldn’t work. Then, they’d talked about every possibility, magical or otherwise, that had a remote chance of stopping Bill from possessing Lee — but it seemed nothing could get in between the deal that gave Bill such control.

Their conversation changed, then, to ways that Lee could join the Cipher Wheel even while Bill was possessing him. Their options were to force Bill, while in Lincoln’s body, to be a part of the Cipher Wheel (which was probably impossible; Bill could hardly help cast the spell designed to destroy his own power) or to give Lincoln another body to use. The latter option seemed vaguely possible, but unlikely. The Cipher Wheel called for the souls of the Symbols: spirit and body. Bill’s spirit in Lincoln’s body wouldn’t work, and Andrew didn’t think Lincoln’s spirit with someone else’s body would work, either. “We should at least try it, right?” said Lincoln, desperate for a solution. “How can I inhabit a body when Bill has mine?”

“You’d have to possess someone yourself,” said Andrew, “which is rare for human spirits to be able to do. It’s extremely hard to push someone else’s spirit out of their body, because both spirits have about the same strength, and the other person has the advantage of already being in their own body.”

“Could I make a deal with them, like Cipher?” asked Lee. “Could they agree to let me take over?”

Andrew shook his head. “You don’t have the power to make deals the way Cipher does. You could try to get someone’s agreement, though you’d probably need someone else to contact them for you, since ghosts don’t have a lot of access to the mindscape. And even if someone agreed, I don’t know what they would have to do to allow you to take over. Then, once you manage to possess someone, there’s still a big chance that the Cipher Wheel won’t accept you.”

With those odds, conversations about the Cipher Wheel felt almost pointless. It certainly didn’t help that Bill liked to randomly possess Lincoln and taunt Andrew and whoever else was with him, thereby halting any progress in the discussion. It felt as if Lincoln had been shoved out of his body more in the past few days than he had been in twenty years, and he was sick of it.

Luckily, that morning, Bill didn’t possess Lincoln. Unluckily, nobody came to visit. Lincoln ate his breakfast, sparred with Xítway, and stared longingly at the door (which had been repaired) as the minutes slipped by.

After what felt like hours (though Lincoln had no way to know for sure), there was a knock at the door. Xítway went to answer it. “Hello, Stanford,” she said. “Wait a moment.” She closed the door, crossed the hut to Lee, and gestured to the wooden pole that stuck out of the ground beside the bench.

Lee glanced to the door, wishing he could go to it and throw it open and welcome his brother into the hut. But he couldn’t; he had to allow Xítway to tie his hands behind the stupid stake. Because the magical barrier around the hut blocked all humans from entry, Xítway had to temporarily take the barrier down to let Ford in. But Bill couldn’t be allowed to escape in Lincoln’s body while the barrier was down, so Xítway tied Lincoln up whenever the spell was down and untied him when it went back up.

Ford came into the hut not long after Lincoln had been tied up. “Hi, Ford,” Lee said in relief.

“Hello.” Ford waited for Xítway to untie Lincoln, then came forward to hug him. “How are you?”

“Better, now that you’re here.” Lincoln hugged his brother tightly. The two then went over to the bench and sat beside each other. “How’s everyone at the Museum?”

“The twins are a lot happier now that they’ve gotten to see you.” Lee smiled at this. Ford had brought Mabel and Dipper with him to visit last night, and it was a relief to see them again. “We’re gathering supplies,” Ford continued, “from my bunker and people’s storage. And Andrew’s gone with some other minotaurs and the Corduroys to take glowfly lanterns and heat mushrooms to town.”

“What are those?”

“Glowflies are basically magical fireflies; I don’t exactly know what’s magical about them, but Andrew said different creatures use them around the forest for light. And heat mushrooms are fascinating. Their spores give off heat.” Ford gave a small smile. “Dipper says we should call them ‘sunshrooms.’ I told him that wasn’t accurate, because the sun is a billion times hotter than the mushrooms.”

“I like that name,” Lee said. “It’s catchy.”

“True,” Ford admitted. Then he pulled out a pen and the third Journal, which he’d been bringing along to his visits, and opened to a page near the back that he’d filled with the ideas they’d discussed over the past few days. “By the way,” he said, “Gideon wanted me to tell you about an idea he had. If he had his amulet, do you think he could exorcise Bill from your body? He says he’s done it before with ghosts and similar creatures.”

Lee thought about this. “I doubt it would work, but we should certainly try. But he doesn’t have his amulet right now, does he?”

“No, he’d have to get it from his manor. He says Gaston probably has it locked away somewhere.”

The brothers talked more about that possibility and others, with Ford jotting down ideas and adding notes to previous entries in the Journal. The conversation didn’t really go anywhere that it hadn’t been before, but Lincoln didn’t mind too much. He was just happy to be with his brother.

Another knock sounded at the door sometime after Ford had arrived. Xítway went to answer, and Lee and Ford looked up in interest. Was it Andrew?

Xítway glanced back at Lee. “Another human is here to see you.”

“Who?” Lee asked.

“He says his name is Fiddleford.”

Ford immediately jumped to his feet. “No. Don’t let him in.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s the one responsible for Lee’s deal with Bill, that’s why,” Ford snapped.

Lincoln stood and put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “That’s not true,” he said. “ _I’m_ responsible for my deal with Bill.”

Ford flinched at Lee’s words, but Lee wasn’t going to take them back. They were true.

“Should I let him in or not?” asked Xítway. “Who is he?”

Ford opened his mouth to say something, but Lincoln squeezed his shoulder to stop him. “He’s the man who erased my memory,” Lee said. It hurt to hear the words out loud, but they were also true. “Why does he want to see me?”

Xítway turned and spoke through the door. Then she glanced back. “He wants to apologize.”

Lincoln’s eyes widened. He glanced at Ford, whose face was dark and stony. Could Lee face Fiddleford? Was the man really here to _apologize_ for destroying Lee’s memory?

Lee decided that he wanted to find out. He went over to the pole. “Let him in, then.”

So Xítway came over, tied Lee’s hands around the pole and behind his back, and went back to the door to let down the barrier spell. Ford put a hand on Lee’s shoulder. “Don’t do this,” he said. “I don’t — I don’t want him to hurt you again.”

“I don’t think he will,” Lee replied. “Besides, you and Xítway are here to protect me if need be.”

Ford’s face was pained, but he didn’t reply. A moment later, Xítway fully opened the door and stepped aside.

Lee’s stomach flopped as Fiddleford entered the hut.

The man moved slowly and hesitantly. His beard was much shorter than it had been when Lee had last seen him; his skin had more color to it; he wore an eyepatch over his right eye. His visible eye met Lee’s, and he froze in place. “Stanley,” he whispered.

Lincoln swallowed. “Hello, Fiddleford.”

Xítway came over and untied Lincoln’s hands; while she did so, Ford took angry strides toward Fiddleford. “I told you not to come here,” Ford hissed.

“He’s welcome here, Ford,” Lincoln said. Xítway finished untying him, and he rubbed at his wrists. “Thanks,” he said quietly to Xítway as she moved away.

“Stanley, I — I’m sorry,” Fiddleford blurted.

Lincoln regarded the man silently. His chest felt tight with the onset of an emotion, but it soon faded away. It was likely anger, come to rage at Fiddleford, but blocked by Bill’s magic. Lincoln couldn’t be angry at Fiddleford for erasing his memory. Instead, he only felt sad and confused.

“Call me Lincoln,” he told Fidds. “It’s the name Percy gave me.”

Fiddleford just stared at him. Tears swam in his visible eye.

“A lot has happened in thirty years,” Lincoln added. “I. . . I built a new life.”

It was too much. Fiddleford let out a sob and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with grief. Lincoln watched him and glanced around at the others. Xítway looked uncomfortable, and Ford had turned his glare to the wall.

Lincoln took a deep breath.

“Here, Fiddleford,” he said, stepping towards the man, “come sit with me.” He put his arm around Fiddleford and guided him to the bench.

Fiddleford took his hands from his face and, after glancing up at Lee in surprise, sat down. They sat together; Lincoln didn’t take his arm away. Fidds leaned into Lincoln’s shoulder and kept crying, his tears leaking through Lincoln’s shirt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Lincoln held him, feeling awkward and uncomfortable and confused. Why was Fiddleford crying and not Lee, the one who had suffered from Fidds’ actions?

Even as he wondered this, he knew the answer. It had been thirty years for both of them. Lincoln had gotten over the grief from his amnesia; Bill had used his magic to help Lee accept the memory loss. But Fiddleford, according to what Ford had told Lee, had been suspended alone in his thoughts for all those years. He hadn’t had a real chance to process his own grief from his actions.

“I’m sorry.” Fidds whispered the words over and over again. Lincoln had no idea how to respond. He couldn’t say, “It’s okay,” or, “Don’t apologize,” because it _wasn’t_ okay, and Fiddleford _should_ apologize.

Lee glanced at Ford. Ford was watching the two of them with a mixed expression of hatred for Fiddleford, sadness for Lee, and discomfort for the whole situation. Lee sent Ford a small, reassuring smile (though he didn’t know if it looked all that reassuring), then looked down at Fiddleford. “Ford told me what you told him,” Lincoln said, “about the day you”—he swallowed—“wiped my memory. I have a question.”

“Of course,” Fiddleford said. He sat up a little straighter, wiped his eyes, adjusted his eyepatch. “I’ll answer anything you ask.”

“What did you type in?” Lincoln had wondered since Percy had shown him the memory gun all those years ago. “What did you type into the memory gun?”

Fidds flinched at the question and looked away. “Stanley Pines,” he whispered. “I typed in your name. Bill told me that it would. . . erase everything.”

Lincoln’s eyes widened. Was that why? Was that why the name “Stanley” made him so uncomfortable? Because it was the first thing Fiddleford had erased?

“How much of it was your idea?” asked Lee. “Building the memory gun, using it on me?”

“It was Bill’s idea,” Fiddleford said. “All of it. But I — I was the one who did it. I built the gun, and I — I used it on—” He couldn’t finish that sentence; he buried his face in Lee’s shoulder again.

“You trusted him,” Lincoln said quietly. “You trusted that you were doing the right thing. You were wrong, but Bill is. . . very persuasive.”

“I never — I never should have—” Fidds’ breath was ragged.

“I know.” Part of Lincoln wanted to shove Fidds away, to get as far away from the man as he could. But another part of him felt real healing from this experience — even though it was tremendously painful. Lee pulled Fidds closer. “It’s been hard,” he said. “Really hard. I built a new life, but it’s not a good one. And now. . . now I’ve found Ford. And that’s wonderful. But I still. . .” He let his own ragged breath and glanced at Ford. “I still don’t remember him.”

Ford’s face was pained. Fiddleford only cried harder at Lee’s words.

Lee closed his eyes. “Fiddleford, I. . . I know this probably isn’t possible, but. . . you built the memory gun. Is there any way to reverse its effects?” He highly doubted it, based on his own experience with the gun, but he had to ask.

“I don’t think so,” Fidds whispered. “The Northwests’ amulet hides memories away; I remember stories of people getting them back in certain situations. But the gun. . . the gun destroys them. I destroyed them.”

That was what Lincoln knew of the gun as well, but it still hurt to hear. Fiddleford had, in a single moment, destroyed over thirty years of Lee’s memory. Almost half of Lee’s life had been lived as an amnesiac.

Lincoln was sitting with his attacker, and he wanted to be angry at him. He wanted to be — justifiably — enraged that Fiddleford had stolen half his life. But he _couldn’t_ be. He couldn’t get angry, no matter how much easier it would be, no matter how much Lee wanted it. Why had he ever made that deal with Bill? Lincoln _needed_ his anger. He couldn’t handle this situation without it.

But he didn’t have it.

He didn’t know how long he sat there with Fiddleford. Eventually, Fidds’ breathing settled, and he turned his head so that the back of it was leaning on Lincoln’s shoulder. His eyes were closed; Lincoln wondered if he was asleep, but then his left eye opened and looked up at Lincoln’s face.

Lee forced away the depressive feelings that were ready to envelop him. “Fiddleford,” he said, “thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for letting me see you,” Fidds said quietly. “You have every right to be. . . to be angry with me.”

Lincoln _did_ have every right to be angry with Fiddleford. But he wasn’t. That was probably better for Fiddleford, but it was extremely painful for Lincoln.

“I. . . I should probably go,” Fiddleford said. “Melody will be worried that I’m taking so long.”

“Ford tells me she’s been helping you.”

Fidds nodded. “She’s been wonderful.” He glanced to Ford. “I’m sorry for barging in, Stanford.”

Ford wouldn’t even meet Fidds’ gaze.

Fiddleford looked away and nodded, accepting Ford’s hatred. Then he got to his feet. He went to the door, but Xítway put out a hand to forestall him. “We have to take the barrier down first,” she reminded him.

With a longsuffering sigh, Lee went back to the stake. Xítway tied him up, then went to the door and muttered some words in an unfamiliar language. “There,” she told Fidds. “Go ahead.”

Fidds looked back at Lincoln. “Well. . . goodbye,” he said.

“Goodbye,” Lincoln replied. Fidds went through the door; Xítway muttered another incantation and closed the door behind him. Then she came over and untied her prisoner.

Once she was done, Ford crossed the hut and silently threw his arms around Lincoln. His body shook, much like Fidds’ had — but Lee had the feeling that Ford was shaking out of anger more than anything else.

“It helps that he apologized,” Lincoln said as he hugged his brother.

“It doesn’t fix anything,” Ford argued.

Lincoln leaned his head on Ford’s shoulder. “It helps,” he repeated. “Just a little.”

The brothers stood there, arms wrapped around each other, both crying on the other’s shoulder. Lincoln’s tears were from grief; Ford’s from anger.

It wasn’t fair, Lincoln thought, that he couldn’t be angry himself.

~~~~~

That night, Lincoln faced Bill Cipher in his dreams.

Lee had fallen asleep demanding in his thoughts that Cipher appear to him tonight. The demon now floated in front of him with an unamused glint in his eye. “ **Go ahead** ,” Bill said, “ **ask me**. See if I’ll **agree**.”

The words brought Lincoln into lucidity. He took a deep breath. “I need my anger back, Cipher. You have to break our deal.”

Bill let out a harsh laugh. “ **No** , of **course** I won’t. **Surely** you know that I **will not do that**. Our deal is, quite possibly, the **best** deal I have **ever** made.”

“I don’t want to be in the deal anymore. I don’t want you to possess me _or_ block my anger. If I don’t agree, then the deal is off.”

Bill laughed again. “That’s **not** how it **works** , **Blind Eye**. You **know** this. Once someone makes a deal with me, only **I** have the power to nullify it — at least until the deal is **fulfilled**. But the only end date for **_our_ **deal is your **death**.”

Lee did know this, and it terrified him. He told himself not to beg, not to plead, but his desperation leaked through his words. “Please, Cipher. I need my anger back. It. . . it hurts too much.”

Bill flew in a circle around Lincoln. “Yes, you **are** in a lot of pain. Your emotions are **trying** to move to anger, but they’re **blocked** — they’re **stuck**. But, as hard as that is for you, there is **some** advantage for me. Without anger, you’re more **submissive** ; it’s been so much **easier** to order you around.” Lincoln bristled at this; he started to protest, but Bill cut him off. “ **However** , it’s also been **harder** to **stimulate** your body into **action** when I’m possessing you. Giving you back your **anger** would certainly add to your **adrenaline** and such.”

“Then it’s to your advantage. I’m not _submissive_ to you anymore, anyway — anger or no.”

“ **True** ,” Bill conceded. “Still, I’m **not** willing to give up my **power** over you. **How** can I give you your **anger** back without breaking our deal that lets me **possess** you?”

Lincoln knew it was futile to convince Bill to give up on that front. The demon had too much of an advantage with his ability to possess Lincoln. As much as Lee desperately wanted Cipher’s power broken, he knew he had no chance. “Surely there’s a way to. . . to keep your power,” he said in a subdued voice, “while also getting rid of this block on my emotions.”

“There **is**.” His small cane appeared, and Bill twirled it around his hand. “It would involve **another** deal. **Two** , actually.”

Lincoln stiffened. “No more deals.”

Bill shrugged. “Then no more **anger**. At least **hear** my proposition.” Lee glared at him, and he continued, “We’d do this in two stages — two **deals**. For the **first** deal, I would promise to break our **current** deal, and **you** would promise to make **another** deal that gives me the **same power** over you.” He paused. “ **Or** you could give me the power to possess your body **and** control your mind.”

“Absolutely not,” Lincoln replied immediately.

“Well, it was worth a **shot** ,” Bill said. “The **second** deal would be a **replacement** deal. You would give me the **same power** from the **current** deal, and **I** would give you something you **ask** for. **That’s** my **only** offer — the only way for you to get **all** your emotions back. What do you **say**?”

Lincoln hesitated. He wanted the deal broken; he didn’t want to make two new ones. But this was, as Bill had said, the only option.

When he’d first made the deal with Bill, it was because he was stuck in his anger. Now he was stuck _without_ his anger. Bill’s meddling with his emotions had only made his life harder — although, admittedly, that fact hadn’t caught up with him for twenty years. Not having his anger had served its purpose; he’d become an effective Order leader without it. But now that missing anger was only hurting him.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

“I **knew** you’d see **sense** ,” Bill said. “ **So** , do you **agree** to make a new deal with me — giving me the **same power of possession** that I currently have — if I **break** our current deal?”

“I’ll make a new deal that allows you to possess me once a week,” Lincoln tried.

Bill laughed shortly. “ **No**. I demand the **same control over you**.” He put out his hand. Blue fire flared to life on his fingers. “ **You’ll** make a new deal that allows me to possess you **whenever** I choose. **I’ll** break the deal that **blocks** your **anger**.”

It felt wrong. But it was his only choice. “Deal,” Lincoln said heavily, and he took Bill’s hand.

The blue fire spread to Lincoln’s hand, then disappeared. “ **Great** ,” said Bill. He let go of Lincoln’s hand and snapped his fingers. “ **Deal broken**. You have your **anger** back.” He put his hand out again, and another flame of blue appeared. “Now for the **new** deal.”

Lincoln didn’t feel a difference, but he suspected he would when he woke up. “What’s your side of the new deal?” he asked. “I give you. . . I give you the same power, but what will you give me?”

Bill shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I want my memory back,” Lincoln said quietly.

Bill narrowed his eye. “No, you **don’t**. Our **very first deal** , where I **stopped** your desire for your memory, is **still in effect**.”

“I don’t want it for me,” Lincoln admitted. “I want it for Stanford. It’s killing him that I don’t remember him.” Yes, the brothers were still able to bond, but Lincoln’s amnesia seemed to be as hard on Ford as it had been on Lee all those years ago.

“I **can’t** retrieve your memories. Fiddleford told you **himself** : The memories are **gone**. **Destroyed**.”

Yes, Lincoln knew that. But it was the first thing that had come to his mind. “Then. . . I want you to leave my family alone,” he said.

“They’re my **Symbols** ; there’s no **way** I’ll leave them alone. **Try again**.” Bill’s voice took on an edge of impatience.

Lincoln looked away. Anything he _really_ wanted was something that Bill wouldn’t give him. What could he ask for that Bill would agree to?

“Our deal,” he said slowly. “Our first deal, back in ’83. It’s still in effect.”

“ **Yes**.”

“Then. . . I want you to undo everything you’ve done to mess with my mind. I want you to stop changing what I think and feel.”

Bill’s yellow glow brightened as the demon thought about this. “It would make things **harder** for you,” he said. “You would **want your memory back**. You would be even **more** frustrated with your captivity, since my **magic** is helping you feel at least **somewhat** content with the minotaurs.”

Lincoln took a deep breath. “Then I’ll mourn with Ford. I’ll deal with it. I’d rather do that than have you manipulate my mind.”

Bill shrugged; the blue flame on his hand wavered with the motion. “It’s **your** suffering. **So** , you’ll give me the ability to **possess you whenever I want** , and **I’ll** break our first deal — along with the deal I’ve already broken — and stop manipulating your **mind** with my **magic**.”

Lincoln nodded slowly. “And that’s the best you’ll give me?”

“ **Yes**.” Bill floated closer. “Do we have a **deal**?”

Lincoln hated this. He didn’t want to go through with it. He tried to say, “No,” but he couldn’t form the word. His hand twitched at his side.

“The magic from our **other** deal **compels** you to take my hand,” Bill said. “You already **promised** that you would make **this** deal. **Take my hand, Blind Eye**.”

There was no getting around it. Lincoln’s hand moved of its own volition and grasped Bill’s.

The blue fire only licked Lincoln’s hand for a moment before Bill let go. He snapped his fingers again. “ **No more mental manipulation from me** ,” he said. “You **got** what you **wanted**.”

Lincoln lowered his head. Yes, he’d gotten the main thing he’d wanted — his anger, his full range of emotion — but he also wanted to break Bill’s power over him. It felt as if Bill’s power were stronger than ever.

“I’m **glad** you still recognize your **bondage** to me,” Bill commented in response to Lincoln’s thoughts. “Freedom is **hopeless** for you, **Blind Eye**. I don’t want you to **forget** that.”

Lincoln flinched. He lifted his eyes to say something, but Bill glowed so brightly that Lee had to look away. “Your **dream cycle** is **ending** ,” the demon said. “Until **next time**.”

The next thing Lincoln knew, he was sitting bolt upright on his cot in the minotaurs’ prison hut.

His breathing was heavy; his heart raced. Why was his heartbeat so fast? What was wrong?

The memory of his dream came easily to his mind and answered his question. He stared into the blackness around him as a long-forgotten feeling swept over him. His pulse, rather than slowing down, grew quicker. His hands clutched his blankets. His face felt hot.

He was _angry_.

He gasped aloud at the strength of the feeling. Cipher had _ruined_ his life! And Fiddleford had helped! And he’d had the _audacity_ to come here earlier asking for forgiveness!

Lincoln threw off his blankets and jumped to his feet. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he had to move. He had to get out of this sweltering hut. He had to get outside and find Fiddleford. And then, since Lee couldn’t physically hurt Bill, he would have to hurt Fiddleford instead.

He headed in the direction of the door to the hut. His mind was too fired up to care that there was a spell trapping him inside. He’d get out by sheer force of will, and he’d get rid of _anyone_ who got in his way.

“Lee? What are you doing?”

Xítway’s voice startled him, but the sound of it only made him more angry. That was the voice of his _prison guard_. The voice of the person who was keeping him trapped. He ignored her and kept moving towards the door. He couldn’t see anything in the dark, but he was pretty sure the door was in this direction.

Hands grasped his arms. “Stop,” Xítway commanded. “Who are you?”

The question was only fuel to the fire. Lincoln fought against Xítway’s grip. “Who do you think I am? Let me go!”

“Are you Bill Cipher?” she asked in a deliberate voice.

“ _No!_ I want _nothing to do_ with that stupid triangle! Let me _go_!”

“Calm down,” Xítway said; she didn’t let go. “I’m sorry, Lee, but you can’t leave. You’ll only hurt yourself if you try.”

“Then take down the spell!”

“I won’t do that,” Xítway said. She tried to keep her voice calm, but she sounded startled. “What’s gotten into you, Lee? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he repeated. “What’s _wrong_? I’m being kept from my family by _you_ , that’s what’s wrong! You and Cipher! You, and Cipher, and Percy, and Fiddleford, and everyone else who _lied_ to me for _thirty years_!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry they lied to you.”

“If you were _sorry_ , you’d let me go!”

“I won’t do that,” she repeated. “Let’s just calm down.”

“No!” He struggled against her grip. Not only was she stronger than he was, but she seemed to anticipate his movements. “How are you doing that?” he demanded. “It’s pitch black in here!”

“Minotaurs can see better in the dark than humans,” Xítway said. She pinned his arms to his sides. “Lee. Please. Calm down.”

“I can’t calm down!” His anger shoved itself against his chest and escaped through his screams. He tried again to throw Xítway off him, but to no avail. He was an aging human; she was a strong, young minotaur. Lee had no chance against her.

He kept trying anyway. He struggled against her, and she held him fast while pleading with him to stop. Someone knocked frantically on the door, roused from their bed by the shouting; Xítway yelled, "We're okay! Go back home!" and the knocking stopped.

The moment of distraction gave Lee a chance to push Xítway away, but she anticipated this and resisted him. “What do you need?” she asked, desperately, as Lee kept fighting against her. “How can I help? Do you want to spar, work off some of your energy?”

“I can’t see,” he reminded her with a growl, “so _that_ wouldn’t work. Just let me out.”

Xítway murmured something in her strange language, and a ball of soft orange light appeared, floating near the ceiling. “There,” she said. Her round black eyes bore into Lincoln’s. “Look at me, Stanley. Look at me.”

Hearing his real name gave him pause. At first, another surge of anger encouraged him to struggle against Xítway some more, but something about the sound of his name brought a new sensation to replace the rage. Another emotion traveled up Lee’s trachea and lodged itself in his throat. He stared into Xítway’s eyes and went limp in her arms.

“Stanley?” she whispered.

His vision was getting blurry, and his face was suddenly wet. Stanley let out a sob and buried his head in Xítway’s chest.

Xítway’s restraining grip turned to a hug as Lee sobbed in her arms. His shoulders shook as he struggled to get enough air, and his tears dampened Xítway’s rough nightshirt. He hadn’t cried this hard in a long time, not even on the day he’d met Stanford. His depressed, languid grief of the past few days gave way to a new, more powerful grief borne from adrenaline and the remnants of intense anger. All the emotion that had been bottled up, unable to properly express itself because of Bill’s magic, now flowed from him in loud sobs and wet tears and hitched breaths.

Xitway gently guided Lee back to his cot and sat with him — much like he had done with Fiddleford earlier that day. She held him as he cried, and he was too emotional to even be embarrassed.

Lee cried for quite some time. His grief lasted longer than his anger had: The anger had been strong (especially since it had been the first pure anger Lee had felt in twenty years), but it had had a quick fuse. This new grief, almost as strong as the anger had been, had a much longer life. There was a lot of pent-up emotion that now took its sweet time coming out.

At least it _could_ come out. Cipher was no longer blocking it; Lee finally had access to his full range of emotion. Even as grief tore through him, it was accompanied by a feeling of relief that the emotion could finally express itself.

As the grief slowly waned, Lee felt fatigue replace it. He was exhausted. He dimly thought of saying something to Xítway, something that would send her back to her own cot and leave him to sleep. But he was too tired to open his mouth and actually say anything. Xítway’s embrace was warm, and Lee eventually decided with his tired mind that he wouldn’t mind falling asleep in her arms.

So, eventually, he did just that.


	12. Chapter 12

Mabel woke up with a pervasive feeling of dread. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, tracing the early morning shadows on its wood. She was still trapped in Gravity Rises. Still separated from her parents, who had no idea what she was going through. Still hiding like a refugee from a demon who wanted to kill her.

It was January eleventh. One day before Mabel and Dipper were supposed to go home. What would happen tomorrow when the bus tried to come and pick them up? Would there be another car crash, but on the other side of the barrier? Mabel hoped somebody had had the idea to put warnings next to the barrier so that nobody else would get hurt.

She turned her head and looked at Dipper, who was sleeping peacefully with an arm draped over Waddles and a thread of drool dripping down his cheek. Was he as worried as she was? He didn’t seem to be. But he had been comforting her a lot this past week; maybe she was too selfish to notice that he was also scared. She made a guilty mental note to spend more time asking about his needs and less time demanding that he meet hers.

Her bed was warm and comfortable; she didn’t want to get out of it. But she also felt restless. So she leaned over, picked up her socks, pulled them on, and got out of bed. Her socks kept her from feeling the cold wooden floor as she crept out of the room. She wondered if Ford was awake yet.

A glance across the attic told her that Ford’s air mattress was unoccupied. Mabel went down the stairs, wondering if she’d find him in the kitchen. He wasn’t there, but Janice was, cooking breakfast. Mabel gave the woman an awkward “good morning” and retreated. She headed for Ford’s room to find Melody.

Melody came out from Ford’s room when Mabel knocked. “Good morning,” Melody said quietly.

“Morning,” Mabel said. “Where’s Ford?”

“Already with the minotaurs,” Melody said. “June came early and said that something had happened with Stanley.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. “Is he okay?”

“She said he’s safe. I don’t know any more than that. Ford left with her, and I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Mabel sighed inwardly. Ford was spending a lot of time in the minotaur village with Lee. It made sense, given that this last week was the first time the brothers had seen each other in thirty years, but Mabel still felt a little left behind.

At least she and Dipper had gotten to visit Lee last night. It had been a relief to see him again.

“Melody, do you think. . .” The words were out of her mouth before Mabel realized that she was talking. She pressed her lips together and glanced to the floor.

“What is it?” asked Melody. Before Mabel could answer, though, the woman seemed to understand. “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

Mabel nodded, forcing herself to look up at Melody. “Do you think there’s any chance of me and Dipper getting home?”

Melody didn’t answer at first. She put an arm around Mabel. “I hope so. We’ll figure something out.”

“Will we?” Mabel asked, frustration leaking into her voice. “We haven’t been doing anything. We’ve just been sitting here, hiding, while Ford makes plans with the minotaurs — but apparently they haven’t figured anything out, either. It’s hard to keep hoping when magical creatures tell you that their magic isn’t strong enough!”

“Who said their magic wasn’t strong enough?” Melody said.

“ _They_ did!” Mabel moved away from Melody. “June said there was nothing she could do. Andrew said he only had _theories_ for how to help. And nobody’s gone to get Pacifica, even though Gideon said that it was the next thing we should do!”

“Ford and Andrew went last night, actually,” Melody said. “Ford said she wasn’t at the Order, and the passage to the Northwest Manor had been caved in.”

“What?” said Mabel. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“You were in bed by the time he got back,” Melody said gently. “We’re not trying to keep anything from you.”

This felt like such a stark lie that Mabel couldn’t answer for a moment. “Yeah, right!” she finally said. “Andrew wouldn’t tell me about the magic he was putting up around the Museum, in case Bill could use the information somehow. Ford won’t tell me anything he’s learned from the minotaurs except the stuff he thinks Bill already knows. I’m surprised he even told you that they went to the Order last night, the way he’s been keeping secrets!”

“I know it’s frustrating,” Melody said. “I’m sorry.”

Mabel folded her arms. “I hate being stuck here.” Yes, she realized that she would probably be too much of a coward to be any help, but she wanted to do _something_.

“You probably don’t want to hear this, but it’s to keep you safe,” Melody said.

Mabel didn’t want to hear that. Except. . . well, okay, she did. She was glad that she was safe, that eight Symbols were safe here in the Museum. But that didn’t stop the boredom, frustration, and worry that had been Mabel’s constant companions for the last few days.

The door to Ford’s bedroom opened. “Everything okay out here?” asked Fidds.

Mabel turned pink. “Oh. S-sorry. Did I wake you up?”

Fidds smiled genially but didn’t answer the question. “Any more luck with Pacifica?” he asked Melody.

“Not that I know of,” Melody said with a shake of her head. “Ford left early today; apparently something happened with Stanley last night.”

The smile slipped from Fidds’ face. “Cipher contacted me last night,” he said. “First time I’ve seen him in thirty years. He told me about what happened.”

“Really? What happened?” Mabel asked.

“Apparently that deal between Cipher and Stanley was suppressing Stanley’s anger,” Fidds said. “That’s what Lee got in return for letting Bill possess him. Last night, Lee told Bill that he needed his anger back, and Bill agreed. But—”

“Wait, so Bill broke the deal?” Hope rushed through Mabel’s veins. “Lee can join the Cipher Wheel?”

“No,” Fidds said. “Well, yes, Bill broke the deal. But he forced Lee to make another deal. One that gave Bill the same power to possess him.”

The hope fled immediately. “Oh,” Mabel said quietly.

“Cipher basically told me that Lee has his anger back now, and it’s partly directed at me, so I’d better watch out.” Fidds was quiet for a moment. “No wonder he acted so kind yesterday. He probably wanted to be angry with me, but he couldn’t.”

Mabel couldn’t wrap her mind around this. Grunkle Lee hadn’t felt angry since he’d made that deal with Bill? What would that be like?

“Now both brothers hate me,” Fidds added, his voice subdued. “Like they should.”

Instinctively, Mabel moved to take Fidds’ hand. She didn’t know what to say, so she just said, “I don’t hate you.”

Fidds looked at her, then lifted his eyepatch and rubbed at his eyes. “Thanks, Mabel.”

She gave what she hoped was a comforting smile. It was a little strange that she didn’t hate Fiddleford, to be honest. She _had_ hated him, back when she’d only known him as the traitor who’d stolen Ford’s memory and Journals. But now that she actually knew him, she couldn’t imagine hating him.

“Breakfast is ready!” Janice’s voice carried through the Museum. Mabel’s stomach rumbled; good thing she was on the first shift for breakfast today.

“Well, let’s go,” Melody said. “Fidds, how are you feeling without your walker? You haven’t been using it as much these past couple days.”

“I feel fine without it,” Fidds said. “Just a little slow.”

This answer satisfied Melody, and the three of them headed to the kitchen. They passed Gideon in the hall; he had a bundle of clothes in his arms and was presumably on his way to the bathroom to change.

Dipper ran down the stairs to meet them when they’d almost gotten to the kitchen. “Morning!” he said. His shoelaces flapped around his tennis shoes, and he bent down to tie them. Mabel didn’t know why he put on shoes every morning — it’s not like they were planning on going anywhere — but that was Dipper for you.

Mabel entered the kitchen; Dipper finished tying his shoes and jogged after her. Janice was serving the food, but Melody took over; Janice withdrew to wait for the next shift, when she’d eat breakfast with her husband and son.

Mabel, Dipper, Fidds, and Melody had already started eating when Gideon entered, dressed in his usual dress shirt, sweater vest, and slacks. He pulled up the fifth chair (which had come from Ford’s lab) and silently sat down.

“Good morning, Gideon,” Melody said.

“Good morning,” he replied cordially, but he didn’t look at her.

Breakfast passed without incident. Janice wasn’t as good of a cook as Melody, but it was still decent food. Mabel ate quickly — she didn’t want to make the Corduroys wait for too long — and stood up to take her dishes to the sink.

Then she saw something in the corner of her eye.

She turned to the window and frowned. What was that? Some kind of bird flying past?

“Mabes? Watcha lookin’ at?”

“I dunno.” Mabel put her dishes back on the table and moved to the window. “Did anybody else see that? Something just moved by the window.”

Gideon stood up and came to her side. “I don’t see anything.”

“I don’t see it anymore, but — Wait, look!”

Something came into view. No, not something: some _one_. A person in a camouflage suit — but a white one, like it was made for hiding in the snow — stepped into view. They were just past the barrier, which Melody had marked with signs to stop people from unknowingly walking into it. The person in the snow suit seemed unconcerned about the barrier as they walked beside it.

“Who’s that?” Dipper had come to the window. “Did the Order members get an upgrade?”

“No,” Gideon said grimly. “That suit looks like it’s from the Manor.”

Mabel glanced to him. “So it’s one of your servants?”

“One of Cipher’s servants, now,” Gideon corrected.

“Why would you guys have snow camo suits?” Dipper asked.

“Don’t ask me,” Gideon said with a shrug. “We have all sorts of things.”

Another servant, dressed in the same snow camouflage, came into view. Through the window, Mabel could hear them call to the first servant, and the two met up and started talking.

“What are they doing here?” Mabel asked. None of the possibilities that she could think of were good.

“My guess? Keeping us trapped in here,” Gideon said. “We’re safe from them, but they want us to know that we can’t leave.”

“It’s a good thing we got all our supplies, then,” Melody said.

“Weren’t we going to take the lanterns around town today?” Gideon asked.

“What lanterns?” Mabel asked. Then she realized. “Lanterns from the Order? They got some last night?” She gave Gideon an accusatory look. “Wait, Ford told _you_ that he went, but not me?”

“I was awake when he got back; you weren’t,” Gideon said simply.

“Greg and Janice were going to take the lanterns around town, it’s true,” Melody said. “I guess we have to change our plans.” She glanced out the window, where the Northwest servants — or, Cipher’s servants — had finished their conversation and were walking away from each other.

Gideon looked out the window with a calculating gaze, then sighed. “Well, I’ll go talk to them. See if I can get anything out of them.”

“What? No, it’s too dangerous,” Melody said.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “I won’t go anywhere near the barrier. They can’t get in. It’ll be fine.”

“I’ll come with you,” Dipper said.

Gideon glanced at him. “Fine, but let me do the talking.”

Mabel highly doubted that Dipper would be able to follow that instruction, but she didn’t say anything. Dipper and Gideon glanced at her, asking silently if she wanted to come with them; she shook her head. She felt trapped in the Museum, yes, but she didn’t think she’d be able to handle herself out there. Her latest experience with these servants had involved them threatening her as bait to draw Gideon out of the basement. Not an experience she liked to think about.

Dipper ran from the kitchen to get his snow gear, and Gideon followed. “Be safe,” Melody called after them.

The Corduroys came into the kitchen soon after the boys left, and Mabel left with Melody and Fidds. Dipper and Gideon had gone out the front door; Mabel peered through the door’s small diamond-shaped window but couldn’t see them.

“I shouldn’t have let them go out there,” Melody said.

“You wouldn’t have been able to stop them,” Mabel pointed out. “Besides, if anyone should talk to those guys, it’s Gideon. He knows them.”

Melody acknowledged this with an unhappy nod.

Mabel went over the couch and sat, waiting for the boys. Gideon’s suitcase and blanket were on the floor beside the couch; the blanket was folded neatly. Mabel felt a little awkward sitting in the place where Gideon had been sleeping not too long ago, but it was the couch. Sitting here was normal. Mabel sat back and sighed.

After quite a few minutes of worry and boredom, the front door opened. “Those _jerks_!” said Dipper, stomping his snow-covered shoes on the porch. “Those — they’re _terrible_!”

“You’ve already said that five times, Dipper,” said Gideon wearily. The boys came inside, and Gideon closed the door behind them.

“What’d they say?” Mabel asked.

“I was right about why they’re here,” Gideon said. “They want us to think that Cipher has us trapped.”

“They were talking like we were animals!” Dipper added. “Like we’re just here until Bill wants to butcher us for meat!”

Mabel shuddered all over. “They said that?”

“No, but they were acting like it,” Gideon said. “Not too unusual for them, unfortunately.”

“They’re _awful_!” Dipper said.

Mabel pulled her knees up to her chest. That _was_ awful. First she and everyone else hid from Bill in the Museum, and now the demon had sent his minions to turn their hiding place into a prison. What had her winter break come to? Hadn’t she originally been excited for adventures and excitement here in Gravity Rises? Now she was stuck in the Museum with a bounty on her head.

Some winter break.

Dipper came and sat by Mabel on the couch. “I’ll keep you safe, Mabes,” he said. “It’ll be okay.”

“Don’t lie,” Mabel muttered. “They’re right. We’re basically just waiting in here until Bill comes for us.”

“Andrew is—”

“Andrew isn’t doing anything,” Mabel snapped. “He _helped_ trap us in here.”

Dipper flinched at her harsh tone. Mabel’s gaze softened. “Sorry, Dip,” she whispered.

He put an arm around her. “It’ll be okay,” he repeated.

Did he really believe that?

Mabel closed her eyes and leaned against her brother. Whether he believed it or not, Mabel needed someone to at least _pretend_ to be confident. She needed to keep hoping that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out okay.

But it didn’t feel like it would be okay.

Mabel had woken up with a feeling of dread. And that feeling had only gotten worse. And it was only breakfast time.

This was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

Now that Lee had his anger back, it seemed like it would never leave.

Ford had been there when Lee had woken up this morning. Lee had done his best to explain to Ford and Xítway what had happened last night, but it was hard: Even thinking about it made him angry. The anger burned low in Lee’s chest, and he lashed out at both Xítway and Ford even for small things.

It wasn’t really them he was angry at. It was Bill. But his anger could hardly tell the difference.

Ford’s reaction wasn’t helping. After expressing his initial horror that Lee hadn’t felt true anger in twenty years, Ford sat on the bench and became quiet and thoughtful. “What’s wrong?” Lee asked.

Ford glanced at him. “This is why. Why you’ve been so. . . different.”

That rubbed Lee the wrong way, though he didn’t know why. He folded his arms. “It _has_ been thirty years,” he said.

“I know, but. . . it’s been almost like. . . like you’re a completely different person. And this is why. You haven’t had your anger.”

Lee bristled.

“I didn’t mean — you’re still my brother, Lee, no matter what—”

“You want me to be Stanley,” Lee interrupted. “Right? You want Stanley back. You worked so hard to get your Journals back and open that portal so you could get Stanley back.”

Ford didn’t answer at first. “I wanted my brother back,” he said in a measured voice.

“Even if he’s not Stanley anymore?” Lee felt angry, but it was a thin anger; it poorly disguised Lee’s fear and uncertainty about his identity. “I _am_ a completely different person, Ford, even with my anger. I’m not Stanley. Fidds murdered Stanley.”

Ford flinched. “I. . . I know.”

“Do you? Or do you keep hoping that I’ll become Stanley again? Because — I’m not—” Lee dropped onto the bench beside Ford. “I don’t know _who_ I am,” he said, “but I’m not Stanley.”

There was another long pause before Ford answered. “You’re still my brother,” Ford finally said, “right?”

The words brought a new feeling to Lee’s mind. Thinking about Stanley and Lee’s lost identity and everything that had happened with Bill last night — that all brought confusion and anger. But when Lee thought about the simple fact that he was Ford’s brother. . .

That brought him just a tiny bit of peace.

“Yes,” Lee said. “I can be your brother. I just. . . I can’t be Stanley.”

“You don’t have to be,” Ford said.

“Good.”

After that exchange, Lee thought he’d feel calmer, but he didn’t. He felt hot and stifled. Part of him still wanted to leave this stupid hut and hunt down Fiddleford and get revenge. Since that wasn’t an option, he asked Xítway if he could spar with her. She agreed, and Lee felt a little better as he threw punches and deflected Xítway’s blows.

As Lee and Xítway sparred, Lee noticed Ford watching on the side. He had a small, relieved smile on his face. Seeing that expression only made Lee more angry, for some reason. He redoubled his efforts against Xítway.

The sparring could only last so long, though, before Lee got tired. He plopped down on the bench next to Ford; he was winded, but he still felt as if he were full of captive energy. “What time is it?” he asked.

“Still mid-morning,” Xítway answered.

Lee groaned and put his head in his hands. Bill was right when he said that Lee would be more frustrated with his captivity after last night’s deals. Lee wasn’t sure if he could handle one more minute of this.

But it wasn’t even noon yet.

This was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

Today was the day. Caleb was almost sick with anticipation.

For the past three days, Caleb had made plans with Cipher and, through Cipher, with Pacifica Pleasure as well. Today, Pacifica would come to the minotaur village with some of Cipher’s servants. Caleb would steal the dagger and present it to them, and they’d also rescue Lincoln. By the end of the day, if Caleb was successful, the township would start. Caleb and Yingtai and Candy would be on their way to their new home.

Caleb didn’t know how the servants planned to rescue Lincoln, but he did know how they’d get the dagger. The plan was simple enough. Enoch would be in the dagger’s cave when Pacifica and the servants arrived. While Pacifica pretended to negotiate with Andrew, Caleb would slip into the cave and join Enoch. He’d take the dagger, deliver it to Pacifica, and join her and the servants as they returned to town. Caleb would go to Yingtai’s house, join his wife, and finally, _finally_ reveal himself to his daughter.

He was so excited and nervous that he could hardly think clearly.

He was a little worried about the other minotaurs chasing him and imprisoning him. But Cipher had assured him that everything would be fine. If Caleb went with Cipher’s servants, they would protect him.

Still, it wasn’t fair in the least to leave without an explanation. So Caleb had written a note that Andrew and the others could find after he was gone. The message would explain everything. No holding back. The whole truth. Caleb hoped that someone would find the note — and that Caleb himself would be long gone when they did.

The morning passed slowly. Caleb spent it working on the reconstruction efforts, as he had for the past week. He kept glancing up at the sun, willing it to move across the sky. Pacifica would come in the early afternoon. That’s also when Enoch would go to the cave to guard the dagger. Caleb had to wait until then.

How could he wait? He had waited for over a decade, and he was finally close to getting what he’d wanted for so long. Not only that, but he was also close to betraying his brother, which filled him with almost as much dread as his excitement. He just wanted to get the whole thing over with. He didn’t want to see Andrew’s and Enoch’s pain, and he wanted to be with Yingtai and Candy.

But he had to wait.

The sun didn’t seem to move at all. It taunted Caleb from above.

This was going to be a long day.


	13. Chapter 13

Pacifica’s skin tingled with magic.

It was a thrilling feeling. Pacifica hadn’t felt anywhere near this powerful since she’d had her amulet. She smiled to herself and sat back in her passenger seat on the snowmobile, feeling the cold wind rush past her warm winter coat. Not only did she have magic again, but she had the Northwest servants, who had commandeered some of the Northwest’s resources, including a small fleet of snowmobiles, five of which were now racing to the minotaur village. Why hadn’t Pacifica used these servants before? They were _so_ much more helpful than the regular Order members.

The servants were less in number than the Order members, though. That was a bit of a problem. But Lord Cipher had contacted the Order members in their dreams last night and instructed them to go to the Mystery Museum at noon, where they would meet a small group Northwest servants. Pacifica didn’t know how many of the Order members would listen, but any who heeded their lord’s call would be helpful in the conflict to come.

She was confident that the conflict wouldn’t last long. They had Caleb, to begin with: He would get them the dagger quickly and easily. As for Lincoln, another group of servants had left earlier to get in position for their rescue mission. Pacifica was sure that she and the servants would be successful, both in rescuing Lincoln and getting the dagger.

Then, once she had the dagger, Pacifica would take it back to the Museum and stab Mabel with it. With her newfound magic, Pacifica was sure she could succeed at that, too.

The magic danced around her arms, waiting to be put into use. Bill had introduced Pacifica to this new type of magic the day after the portal opened. Hexal magic, he called it. Only the Pleasure family could use this magic, and Pacifica’s grandfather, Percy, had been a master at it. Bill had directed Pacifica to books that were remnants of Percy’s time at the Order: books filled with patterns and symbols for spells that Percy had created and refined. Hexal magic was an art, and Percy had been a master artist.

Pacifica found a new respect for her deceased grandfather as she studied hexal magic. The magic was simultaneously fragile and sturdy: It needed to be employed against another person in an act of revenge or manipulation; otherwise, it was hard to control. But with a clear target and the right brushstrokes, the magic was sure and reliable. Pacifica had studied Percy’s notes and journals from her other Pleasure ancestors; and, with their guidance, she had formed her own spell. Just before she headed out with the servants, she had inked the new pattern onto her arm. The spell took hold with the combination of the ink, the pattern of the strokes, and the Pleasure blood in Pacifica’s veins.

It felt good to be powerful again.

She watched the trees rush by, and she wondered how long it would take them to get to the minotaur village. One drawback of Pacifica’s particular spell was that it wouldn’t last long. She had combined many spells into one — enhanced strength, enhanced speed, immunity to other forms of magic, and intangibility — and that made it hard to hold onto all of them at once. Furthermore, the spell was created to use against Mabel, but very indirectly. It was the dagger that would actually harm Mabel; the hexal magic would simply help Pacifica get to her. This indirect use of the hexal magic made it a bit harder to control.

So Pacifica would just have to be fast. But with the resources she had? She’d complete her objective soon.

Soon, Mabel would be gone forever.

“You’re really going to take this to the end, aren’t you?” Mabel’s voice came to Pacifica, traveling beneath the wind with an eerie echo. “You’re just setting yourself up to fall even further once you find out that you can’t hurt me.”

For the past few days, Spirit Mabel had repeatedly made comments like this. When she hadn’t been torturing Pacifica in the dead of night with awful nightmares and terrible screams — something she did often — she’d been making underhanded comments designed to make Pacifica doubt herself.

But Pacifica refused to let it work. “Yes, I _am_ going to take this to the end,” she said. Her voice was low, since she didn’t want to startle the servant driving this snowmobile, and she knew that Mabel could hear her perfectly well either way. “And _you_ , Mabel, will end up on an obsidian skewer.”

Mabel, who was floating alongside the snowmobile with no trouble maintaining their speed, put her hands up in mock fear. “Oh, no, how threatening,” she said. She floated a little closer and whispered beneath the wind. “I’ll stop you,” she said, quietly and confidently. “Even if you get your hands on that dagger, you won’t be able to bring it anywhere _near_ me.”

“You’re trapped in the Mystery Museum,” Pacifica pointed out. “You’re a sitting duck. Especially against my grandfather’s magic.” The hexal magic would allow her, in her quest to harm Mabel, to pass through Andrew the minotaur’s magical barrier as if it weren’t even there. Bill had assured her of that.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going anywhere,” Mabel replied. “But _you_ won’t be coming to the Museum.”

“I won’t?” She raised an eyebrow and tried to look unconcerned, though in reality she was concealing her rage. And her fear.

“No, you won’t. If you think the nights are bad, Pacifica. . . well, just try to take the dagger to the Museum. You’ll see how bad I can _really_ make things.”

Pacifica repressed a shudder — or, she tried to. Her body shivered, despite her efforts, and Spirit Mabel saw it. A grin spread across Mabel’s face. Pacifica looked away and focused her eyes on the back of the snowmobile driver.

A few hours. She could hold on for just a few more hours. Less, if Caleb was really quick about getting them the dagger.

The procession of snowmobiles continued. Spirit Mabel kept pace with them. She whispered terrible things in Pacifica’s ears, until the tears in Pacifica’s eyes weren’t just from the cold wind. Don’t scream, Pacifica. Don’t retaliate. Don’t encourage her. Just hold on until you can get the dagger, go to the Museum, and strike the fatal blow. Just hold on.

The ride to the minotaur village felt endless. But, like most things that feel endless, it eventually ended. Pacifica could see the short cliffs that surrounded the minotaur village. Though she couldn’t see the huts or the minotaurs, she knew both were there behind their boundary of invisibility.

A minotaur stepped forward, coming into view as he crossed the boundary. “Stop,” he called over the engines of the snowmobiles. “Don’t come any closer.”

The five servants, still driving their snowmobiles at full speed, ignored the minotaur and swerved around him. They drove past the boundary, and the minotaur village flickered into view — including some nearby minotaurs that were scrambling away from the snowmobiles. The servants hit the brakes, and the snowmobiles came to a stop within the minotaur village.

The first minotaur came running after them. “Stop,” he called again. Then, seeing that the snowmobiles _had_ stopped, he stopped as well. “Don’t move,” he said. “Whatever you came here for, you can’t have it.”

The servants were silent as Pacifica climbed down from the snowmobile onto the path leading to the village. Her boots crunched on the thin layer of snow, and the cleared snow on either side of the path nearly dwarfed her. She stayed next to the snowmobile, keeping a fair distance from the minotaur. “Would you happen to be Andrew?” she asked him.

“I am,” he said. “You must be Pacifica.”

She wanted to give a little curtsy here, but that would hardly look dignified in her snow gear. “Yes, I am,” she said. “I do apologize for thwarting your attempt to kidnap me last night. Were you planning to force me into the same hut as Lincoln? Or trap me in the Mystery Museum with the others?”

“We were hoping to keep you safe,” Andrew said.

Pacifica bristled at this, but she forced herself to stay calm. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure Lincoln is _very_ safe,” she said.

“Stanley is here willingly,” Andrew said, emphasizing the name _Stanley_. “Why exactly are you here?” he added.

“We want to negotiate,” Pacifica said. “You have an artifact and a person who are very important to me. I’m here to request them.”

“No,” Andrew said simply. “We’ll do no negotiating. I’ll give Cipher no favors.”

Pacifica bristled again — freeing your captive from prison doesn’t qualify as a _favor_ , Andrew — but once again kept her composure. “You haven’t heard our offer yet,” she said.

“I don’t want to hear any—”

He was cut off by the _click_ of a gun cocking. Pacifica glanced over her shoulder to see a servant with a rifle, aiming it at another minotaur. The minotaur put his hands up and stepped back.

Pacifica gave the minotaur a significant look, then let her gaze sweep around to Andrew and the other minotaurs who had gathered around. “We’re here in peace,” she said, “but not in submission. Please know that we will defend ourselves if anyone gets too close.”

The minotaurs all seemed to move back a bit. Bill had theorized that they’d be wary of guns, since they had none, and only a handful of them knew magic. It would at least be enough to keep Pacifica safe until she got what she came for.

Speaking of which, where was Caleb? Pacifica couldn’t see over the other minotaurs, so she had no idea where he was. She’d recognize him when she saw him — she’d never met him, but Bill had shown her what he looked like — and she found herself getting impatient. They didn’t have all day. Pacifica’s magic would wear off soon, and the servants’ guns wouldn’t frighten the minotaurs forever.

“Bringing guns to a negotiation isn’t very peaceful,” Andrew said pointedly. “You’re trespassing on our land, too. I have nothing to say to you. If you don’t leave soon, _we_ will have to defend ourselves.”

“I see,” Pacifica said. “So you have no desire to hear Cipher’s offer? No dreams of having more than this simple life in the forest? Cipher could give you anything you wanted.”

The surrounding minotaurs made various noises of disgust. “Oh, like they’ll listen to you,” a female voice said. Pacifica stiffened as Spirit Mabel stepped out from behind Andrew. “They’ve been cursing Cipher’s name since they were _born_ , Pacifica.”

Pacifica ignored her, keeping her eyes on Andrew. Would he see through her bluff? Pacifica didn’t really _have_ an offer — at least not one that Andrew would entertain for more than a second. She just had to stall until Caleb got the dagger and the other servants rescued Lincoln. Where _were_ they?

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” Andrew said in a tone that was clearly concealing impatience, “coming here and promising offers from a demon who has nothing to offer us. You’re wasting your—” He stopped. A light came on in his big black eyes. “You’re stalling,” he said quietly.

“Ha!” Spirit Mabel crowed. “I told you they wouldn’t fall for it! You’re so—”

Two gunshots, one right after another, interrupted Mabel. They were distant and muted by a silencer, but they were still audible and recognizable. The minotaurs went into an instant uproar, turning wildly to the sound of the noise. It had come from within their village.

Pacifica jumped back onto her snowmobile. “Go!” she ordered, but it was hardly necessary. All five servants gunned their engines, and the snowmobiles took off, going the opposite direction from the gunshots. Time’s up, Caleb, thought Pacifica. You’d better have the dagger.

The gunshots meant that the other group — the servants in charge of rescuing Lincoln — was moving forward with their operation. Pacifica’s group had to get the dagger and get out, before the minotaurs could recover from the shock of getting hit in two places at once. If Caleb didn’t have the dagger. . .

“Caleb betrayed you,” Mabel taunted. She had once again followed the snowmobiles. “He abandoned you. Just like your parents. Just like Lincoln.”

Pacifica gritted her teeth. Caleb, she thought, you’d better prove Mabel wrong. You’d better meet us at the cave. We need you.

We need you to have the dagger.

~~~~~

Caleb slipped quietly into the tree line. Things were quiet — it was after lunch, but before Pacifica and the servants would come — and nobody seemed to notice Caleb heading for the cliff. He would have enjoyed the peace, except that he was feeling far from peaceful himself. It seemed his whole body was shaking as he made his way to the dagger’s cave.

Keep going. You can do this. It’ll all be over soon.

Caleb hesitated by the cave entrance, worried that Enoch had been wrong, that Caleb wouldn’t actually be able to pass through the barrier. He steeled himself, then stepped forward, cringing as he half-expected to be thrown back and knocked unconscious by the magic.

Nothing happened.

Caleb breathed out a silent sigh of relief. The easiest part was behind him: He was inside the cave. He moved deeper into the cave, watching as the sunlight was slowly swallowed up.

“Papa? Is that you?”

A pang went through Caleb’s heart. Poor Enoch. He didn’t deserve to get caught up in all of this. But he was, at Andrew’s request, guarding the dagger personally this afternoon. Caleb would have to take the dagger while Enoch was watching.

“No, it’s me,” he said, coming closer. Enoch was at the back of the small cave, which was lit by a single glowfly lantern; Caleb moved into the light so Enoch could see him.

“Hi, Uncle Caleb,” Enoch said, sounding a little confused. “Did Papa say you could come in here?”

“Yep,” Caleb said. “I talked to him, and he agreed that I should come and keep you company.”

“That’s good,” Enoch said happily. “It gets really boring in here.”

Caleb’s stomach twisted.

“Is that the dagger?” Caleb asked, trying to ignore the feeling. He stepped towards the small pedestal on which the dagger lay.

Enoch picked it up. “Want to see? I shouldn’t let you touch it, but it’s kind of beautiful.” He held it up; it glinted in the glowfly light.

Caleb leaned forward to get a good view. For all the planning he had done with Cipher to steal the dagger, this was the first time he had actually seen it. It looked remarkably like a regular dagger: handle of bone, blade of obsidian, sinew wrap that bound the two pieces together. The light bounced blue and red off the obsidian blade, and the handle was smooth except for its engravings. Spiraling up the handle were ten symbols, etched into the bone: the Symbols of the Cipher Wheel.

“Eerie, isn’t it?” Enoch asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“This is what we’re protecting?” Caleb asked. “This little thing?”

“Yeah.” Enoch turned it over in his hands. “It’s small, but dangerous. Enough that Papa wants me in here to protect it in case someone gets through the barrier somehow. There are old stories, you know, about humans having dark magic that lets them cancel ours.” He shuddered a bit. “Even if someone _did_ get in here, though, I don’t know how I’d be able to stop them. Papa has only taught me a few spells. And most of them need time to cast.”

“I’m sure it’s a last resort,” Caleb said, even as he felt disgusted at the idea of using a calf as the final line of defense. “Andrew and the others will stop anyone before they can get to the cave.”

“Right,” Enoch said.

Caleb didn’t know what to say after that, so he went and leaned against the wall. Enoch put the dagger back on the pedestal and joined him. They stood there silently for a while, watching the dagger as the glowfly light reflected off its blade. Caleb couldn’t take it yet; he had to wait for Pacifica the others.

Eventually, a distant rumbling sound reached their ears. “What’s that?” Enoch asked.

“I don’t know,” Caleb lied; he was simultaneously relieved and reluctant as he recognized the sound of the humans’ snowmobiles. That sound meant that Pacifica was here.

It was time to act.

“Can I hold the dagger? I want to see what it feels like.” He tried to keep his voice casual as he moved toward the pedestal.

Enoch got to the pedestal before Caleb did; he was pretty quick. “I really don’t think you should,” he said apologetically, putting himself between Caleb and the dagger.

“Oh, come on. Just for a moment.” Caleb reached around Enoch.

Enoch turned, grabbed the dagger, and jumped away. “Nobody’s supposed to touch it but Papa and me.” A bit of suspicion came into his eyes.

This was it. Caleb took a deep breath and, for the first time in thirteen years, let his mask drop. “Enoch,” he said, “give me the dagger.” His voice was mostly level, but it shook just a bit.

“No,” Enoch said. “What’s gotten into you, Uncle Caleb?” He held the dagger close to his chest. Caleb could hear the fear in his voice.

“I need the dagger,” Caleb said, trying to stay calm. “I need you to give me the dagger.”

“You can’t have it,” Enoch said. “Only Papa and I are supposed to touch it.”

Another deep breath. “Cipher needs it.”

He said it mainly to catch Enoch off guard. It worked, though the calf only clung more tightly to the dagger. “What?”

Instead of answering, Caleb lunged forward. He didn’t want to hurt Enoch, but he’d wrestled with the calf before, as a game. He knew where Enoch’s weaknesses were. He’d be able to pry the dagger from Enoch’s hands, easy.

Enoch danced away, avoiding Caleb’s outstretched hands. “Stop!” he cried. “Leave me alone!”

Caleb chased Enoch around the pedestal; the calf tried to gasp out the words of a spell, but he didn’t have time to finish before he had to dash away from Caleb again. “Go away!” the calf cried; there was real fear in his voice.

Caleb hated that he was the cause of that fear. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I just need the dagger.”

“No!” Enoch ran away as Caleb tried again to catch him. The cave was small; Enoch wouldn’t be able to avoid Caleb for long. With a panicked look in his eyes, the calf glanced between Caleb and the corridor of the cave. Then he made his decision and dashed to the cave entrance.

Caleb sprinted after him. “Papa!” Enoch called at the top of his lungs. “Papa, help! Help! Somebody!”

The rumbling sound of snowmobiles started up again, growing louder as Caleb and Enoch ran. Caleb caught Enoch at the cave entrance, barreling into him from behind and pushing him down into the snow outside. White fluff flew into the air as uncle and nephew wrestled. Caleb felt the obsidian blade nick his hand as he tried to get a grip on the dagger.

“Help!” Enoch’s yells were ragged as he tried to escape out from under his uncle. “Help!”

Some humans joined the fray, pulling Enoch back as Caleb pried the dagger from his hands. Enoch had a strong grip on the dagger that was hard to break, but Caleb managed it. He got to his feet, holding the dagger triumphantly over his head.

Coughing and spitting out snow, Enoch struggled against the humans — there were three of them. “Give it back!” he shouted. He pushed himself to his feet, but he couldn’t throw the humans off.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb said, and he meant it. Not enough to stop what he was doing, but enough to feel real sorrow for Enoch. Enoch might be misguided about Cipher, but he didn’t deserve to be part of this.

“Excellent, Caleb!” said a voice. Caleb turned as a human girl jumped down from one of the snowmobiles. “I see you have our prize.”

She must be Pacifica. Caleb turned to respond, but he felt something hit his back. Enoch had managed to get free from the humans long enough to slam into Caleb. But before the calf could do anything else, the humans grabbed him and pulled him away, forcing him to his knees. “Don’t hurt him,” Caleb said. But the humans didn’t do anything to Enoch; they just held him back.

Caleb allowed himself a small breath of relief, though he knew he wasn’t in the clear yet. He looked back at Pacifica. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said.

She flinched, though it didn’t seem to be a response to his words; she glanced over her shoulder in fear. “The dagger,” she said hungrily.

Caleb handed it to her.

Pacifica snatched it, looking at it like it was a long-lost treasure. “Finally,” she whispered.

Then she screamed.

Caleb jumped at the sound. Pacifica fell to her knees, clutching the dagger much like Enoch had earlier. “No!” she said. “You can’t have it!”

She and Enoch were yelling almost the same things. The high, screechy voice of the human and the deeper voice of the calf mixed together in a jarring symphony. The human on the nearest snowmobile jumped down and helped Pacifica to her feet. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get back on the snowmobile.”

“You coming, Caleb?” called a fifth human, the only one still on a snowmobile. “Climb onto mine.”

Caleb looked back to Enoch, who was still struggling against the three humans who held him. “Enoch,” Caleb said. He knelt down in front of his nephew. “Enoch, look at me.”

“Traitor!” the calf screamed in his face. “Traitor! Papa, I need your help!”

They had to go soon, or Andrew would arrive to stop them. “Enoch, I’m sorry,” Caleb said. “I’m sorry it had to be like this. I need you to listen to me, okay? I’m going to go with them, but first I need to tell you something.”

“Traitor,” Enoch said in a broken voice.

“I know.” Caleb took a deep breath. “There’s a note in my hut. It will explain everything. Take your papa and go read that note, okay? I’m sorry.”

There wasn’t time for anything else. Caleb put a hand on Enoch’s shoulder; Enoch tried to twist away, but the humans held him fast. “Stay here once we go,” Caleb instructed. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He climbed onto the snowmobile. It was larger than the others, even larger than the one with Pacifica, probably to account for Caleb’s size. He sat behind the human driver and hoped the machine would hold his weight.

Pacifica’s screams had quieted to hisses and moans. She sat behind the driver of her snowmobile, clinging to him with one hand as she clutched the dagger with the other. “Go!” she told him. “They’re coming! Get out of here!”

The three humans around Enoch let go of him and got back on their snowmobiles. Enoch rushed for Pacifica’s snowmobile, but the driver revved the engine, and Enoch scrambled away from the noise.

The five snowmobiles drove away from the cave, staying parallel to the cliff face as they went. Caleb twisted around and watched as other minotaurs burst through the trees, led by Andrew. “Enoch!” he called, grabbing hold of his son. “Enoch, where’s—?”

Enoch pointed at Caleb.

The snowmobiles were fast, and Caleb couldn’t see Andrew’s reaction. But he could imagine it. “I’m sorry!” he called to his family, hoping they could hear him over the engines. “Read the note!”

Then the snowmobiles drove through the boundary of invisibility. Andrew, Enoch, and everyone else disappeared.

Caleb let out a shaky breath.

He had done it. He had gotten the dagger.

And he felt awful.

But it was over. He was on his way to Yingtai. To Candy.

Caleb closed his eyes and tried to ignore the guilt.

~~~~~

But what of the gunshots?

Lee sat in his prison hut, feeling dangerously bored. Lunch had recently passed, although it felt like it should be dinnertime. Time was slowing down, stretching out, and Lee just had to sit here and bear it.

Ford had stayed with him all morning. That was nice, though being in close quarters with the same person for hours — even a long-lost brother — was bound to get on anyone’s nerves. Ford had his third Journal, and he went over the things he’d written in it over the past few days, no doubt hoping to spark new ideas. But he only managed to spark annoyance; Lee didn’t want to discuss the same hopeless ideas for hours.

Bill had been right. Getting rid of Bill’s mental meddling _did_ make things harder for Lee. He was bored. He felt stifled in his prison. He found himself casting his mind back into the past, trying to find memories from before he’d woken up in the Order headquarters, only to find nothing. He had told Bill he would “deal with it,” but that had been _before_ he’d experienced a long day with nothing to do and no chance to go outside. This was maddening.

Then someone knocked on the door, giving Lee something new to focus on, if just for a second.

“Is it Andrew?” Ford said hopefully. He probably wanted to talk to Andrew about things that Lee wouldn’t be invited to hear.

Xítway gave a little shrug as she moved to the door. She pulled it open.

_Bam! Bam!_

The sounds came as bursts of noise, quiet and sharp. Xítway gave a single gasp of air, then collapsed.

Lee instinctively jumped to his feet; Ford did the same beside him. “Xítway!” yelled Lee, running to her side.

He hardly even saw the gunman standing in the doorway. But Ford did. “Wait, Lee, look out!” he called, but the gunman swung the rifle behind her with a flip of her red ponytail. She’d only needed it for those two shots.

Lee fell to his knees beside Xítway. “Xítway — Xítway—” But Xítway didn’t respond. Her eyes were empty. There was a hole in her throat; the bullet had traveled back to her brain stem and killed her almost instantly. The second bullet, to her heart, was just a precaution. Blood dribbled down Xítway’s neck and seeped through the hole in her leather armor. The armor, intended for protection in hand-to-hand combat, didn’t stand a chance against a rifle shot.

With Xítway’s death, the barrier spell around the hut had no one to sustain it. The hut went cold as Xítway’s magic — both the barrier spell and the heating spell — died with her.

The gunman stepped through the door.

Lee didn’t register what was going on around him — Xítway, no, you can’t be — but Ford did. He pulled out his stun gun and shot at the gunman, but the gunman expected this and deftly ducked and spun out of the way. Three other people, all dressed in white camouflage like the gunman, followed her inside. Each avoided Ford’s shots with the stun gun, moving with well-trained grace and speed. The gunman reached Ford and twisted the stun gun out of his hand; she tossed the gun to one of her companions and pushed Ford down to his knees, all in one fluid movement.

The other two people surrounded Lee, whose shock was quickly giving way to rage. He jumped to his feet and turned on the attackers, but they were ready for him. It wasn’t too long before he was back on his knees, his arms twisted painfully behind him, facing Xítway’s corpse.

The attackers had their prey helpless. Ford and Lee struggled against them to no avail. The attackers pulled out small white squares from their pockets.

“Wait, those are mine!” said Ford as he recognized his own knockout patches.

“So you know they work,” said an attacker. They unwrapped their patches and placed one on both Ford’s and Lee’s necks. The brothers fell unconscious.

All this happened very fast. Xítway opening the door — then getting shot — the barrier spell going down — then the attackers coming into the hut, subduing the Pines brothers, and knocking them unconscious. The Northwest servants swung Ford and Lee over their shoulders and left the hut. They placed Ford and Lee on their snowmobiles — two three-seater snowmobiles, each with a driver, an unconscious Pines, and another servant in the back to secure him — and started the engines.

Shouts came from other minotaurs who had heard the gunshots and were racing to the source of the noise. None were close enough to do anything. The servants put their snowmobiles into gear.

They drove away, taking their captives and leaving Xítway behind.


	14. Chapter 14

It was a very good thing that Pacifica wasn’t driving the snowmobile. She felt like she could barely stay on the machine as it was. She gripped the dagger in one hand; her other arm was wrapped around the servant who drove the snowmobile. She held tightly to him, her face buried in the back of his shoulder, trying not to listen to the oppressive sound around her.

But it was hard to ignore Mabel’s screams.

The spirit was pulling out all the stops. Screaming — screaming terrible things, terrible degrading things that wormed their way into Pacifica’s mind and lodged there like leeches. Mabel’s attacks sent shivers down Pacifica’s spine and across her arms, made her fingers tremble, made her hands clammy and slick on the dagger even through her gloves. Pacifica pressed herself against the servant, hoping to cushion the dagger between them if her traitorous hands let go. She _could not_ lose the dagger. Not now. Not before she got to Mabel.

The forest rushed by in a dizzying blur; the snowmobiles were moving at full throttle. The speed, mixed with the screaming, mixed with the shivers, made Pacifica feel sick. She squeezed her eyes shut.

If any other supernatural creatures came to stop them, Pacifica didn’t see it. The snowmobiles never stopped. There was some turbulence — running over rocks, maybe, or the occasional gnome; Pacifica didn’t know. She only had ears for Mabel. Only had thoughts for the mental anguish that the spirit was putting her through. It was what happened most nights — except now it was during the day, under the sun, while Pacifica leaned against the snowmobile driver and tried not to fall off the machine from the pain.

She thought she saw flashes of light through her tightly closed eyelids. Flashes of magic? Attacks from supernatural creatures? Mabel, creating some kind of horrific display for Pacifica alone to see? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know.

They were moving fast. They’d get to the Museum soon. But not soon enough.

“You’ll never succeed!” Mabel insisted. “You’ll only hurt yourself by trying to get to me! And while I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing you get hurt, I’d rather do the hurting _myself_.” Her words were shrill and amplified; the volume hurt. Pacifica wanted desperately to cover her ears, but she didn’t have any spare hands. Besides, covering her ears never worked. Mabel’s screams came from inside Pacifica’s head as much as from outside.

I can’t do this, Pacifica found herself thinking. I have to do this — I need to stop her — but — I can’t—

Mabel seized on those thoughts. “Of course you can’t do this. You never could do anything to me. I’m protected, Pacifica. I have my family and friends around me to protect me. Who do _you_ have?”

No one. Pacifica had no one.

No! Another thought forced its way into Pacifica’s mind. No, I’m not alone! I have the Northwest servants. I have Bill!

Mabel would have none of that. “Oh yeah? And where’s your precious Bill _now_?”

Where _was_ Bill? Pacifica’s thoughts — what little coherent thought she had left — started calling out to Bill for relief. Please, Bill. Please, Lord Cipher. I can’t do this on my own. I need you!

A warm glow shone on Pacifica’s eyelids. Was that Bill? Was he here? Mabel’s screams were forced back by another voice: a calm, confident voice. “ **I’m here** ,” Bill said.

Pacifica didn’t open her eyes, didn’t say anything, but relief swept through her.

“Caleb is on his way to **Yingtai** now,” Bill told her. “You’re down to four snowmobiles and **four servants**. And the minotaurs and other creatures are **gathering** at the Museum. They’re probably using the **hamadryads** to **travel** **through the trees**.”

Pacifica’s relief was stifled by a burst of fear.

“I was **hoping** that Andrew would be **too preoccupied** to join them, but no, **he’s there**. He’s **warning** the Symbols that you have the dagger. They knew **immediately** that you would come after Mabel, and they’re **making plans** to protect her.”

“Of course they knew,” Mabel said smugly. “They’ll stop you!” Her voice was still loud, but it was dampened by Bill’s presence. Pacifica could think a little more clearly with Bill here.

“The **good news** is that I’m **probably** right: Andrew is likely the **only non-human** who can get through that barrier around the Museum. If the servants can keep him **occupied** , you should have a **straight shot** to the Museum.”

The relief came back just a bit. That had been a concern: The hexal magic would allow Pacifica to get through the barrier, but would other supernatural creatures be able to follow her? She had enhanced speed and strength, yes, and the ability to walk through walls, but she had no desire to have strong minotaurs or slippery nymphs chasing after her. If Bill was “probably right” that no one could follow her, then Pacifica would take that as a comfort.

“I’ll **direct you** to Mabel,” Bill continued. “You’re **almost there**. Tell the servants to take you as **close** to the barrier as they **can**. Then you need to jump down and **run** to the Museum. I know you’re feeling sick, but you have to **push through** it, okay?”

Pacifica’s stomach turned over at the thought. Mabel laughed and made a derogatory comment about Pacifica losing her lunch before she could get to the barrier. Pacifica squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, agreeing to Bill’s instructions, her forehead rubbing against the back of the driver’s camo suit. She would push through whatever she had to in order to stop Mabel.

“As soon as you’ve gotten through the barrier, the servants need to focus on **keeping Andrew away. Tell them** ,” Bill instructed. So she did her best to shout over the wind to the driver. She could hardly hear herself, but she opened her eyes enough to see the back of the servant’s head as he nodded.

Beyond the servant, the Mystery Museum came into view. And in front of it, the creatures. Dozens of minotaurs and nymphs and other species were congregated between the tree line and the Museum’s protective barrier. They were waiting there. They were waiting for Pacifica.

Part of her felt flattered that they would all show up for _her_ — like her former psychic shows, but with a non-human audience. Part of her felt assured that, with her hexal magic and with Bill’s help, she would successfully avoid the supernatural creatures and make it to the Museum.

Most of her felt terrified.

The snowmobiles continued on, not slowing down, headed for the creatures. Pacifica could hear various shouts to stop, to hand over the dagger — although the shouts were hardly audible over Mabel, who had started screaming again. Bill’s influence seemed to have lessened as the spirit grew louder and louder.

Ignore it. Ignore her. Stay focused, Pacifica. She sat up straighter on the snowmobile, preparing to jump off, trusting her magic to help her. The servants steered the snowmobiles closer, heedless of anyone in the way. Some nymphs jumped forward and sent magical gusts of wind toward the snowmobiles; the servants did their best to steer around them, but minotaurs and other creatures cut them off.

They weren’t going to make it to the barrier, not on the snowmobiles. “ **Jump off now** ,” Bill said. “You’ll have to **phase through** people, but the **dagger** will phase **with** you. It’ll be **fine**.”

Pacifica knew he was right; she and the servants had practiced with the intangibility spell, and she could phase through people, through walls, through basically anything she chose except the ground. And anything she was holding — including other people — turned intangible with her.

She hadn’t wanted to show the supernatural creatures what power she had, not this soon, but she didn’t have a choice. She jumped from the snowmobile, mentally instructed her hex to make her intangible to everyone around her, and hit the ground rolling.

Hands immediately tried to grab at her. They went right through. It was terrifying to see so many people of so many different species all reaching for her, but Pacifica tried not to focus on her fear. She got to her feet, clutching the dagger tightly in her hand, and started sprinting to the Mystery Museum.

She expected to spend extra energy running through the deep snow between her and the Museum, but that wasn’t the case. Miraculously, her intangibility spell helped her phase through the snow, too. That, combined with her enhanced speed, made running easier than it had ever been before. Pacifica ran across the ground and through the people around her, headed straight for the barrier.

Now for the third spell: canceling out the magic of the barrier. Pacifica worried for a split second that her magic would fail her, that the barrier spell would knock her out, that she’d wake up to find herself imprisoned by the minotaurs — but then she was through. The tingling feeling of magic on her skin increased to a warm buzzing as the barrier spell was forced back by the hex. Pacifica couldn’t fall unconscious: Her task was too important. Her magic took this determination and brought it into reality.

She sprinted to the Museum. There was shouting behind her as the supernatural creatures realized what she had done: She had gotten through the Symbols’ main protection. Pacifica could hear people calling Andrew’s name, but they were cut off by gunshots. The servants were shooting; Pacifica knew they’d be specifically aiming for Andrew.

Mabel was _still_ screaming. Loudly. It was a wonder Pacifica could do anything more than huddle on the ground and cover her ears. But the hexal magic gave her an extra boost — or maybe it was just pure adrenaline — and she kept going. Bill, she thought, where do I need to go?

“Phase through the wall **right in front of you** ,” Bill answered. “That will take you into Ford’s **lab**. **Cross the room** and phase through the **opposite wall**. Mabel and the others are **right** on the other side, in the **Hall of Mysteries**.”

It’d be that easy?

“I certainly **hope** so,” Bill said. “ **Phase in, grab Mabel, get out.** The others — Dipper, Gideon, Robbie, the Valentinos — will be **right behind you** , so move **fast**. Bring Mabel **outside** and stab her **quickly**. You **won’t have time to gloat**.”

Pacifica didn’t need time to gloat. She just needed Mabel to stop. She needed the screaming to stop. She needed to be able to _think_ again.

“ **Remember** ,” Bill said. “ **Remember** **where** you’re stabbing her. **The hand**. Don’t let that dagger touch **anything** but her **hand**. The magic **won’t take hold** otherwise.”

Pacifica grimaced with the reminder. Yes, Bill, you’ve told me this a million times before. Pacifica _wanted_ to run the dagger straight through Mabel’s heart, but she would restrain herself. She only had to stab Mabel in the hand. Then the dagger’s magic would do the rest.

She reached the Museum and ran through the wall, leaving the sunlight outside for the dark lab inside. Nobody was in here — Stanford was safely on his way to the Northwest Manor, thanks to the servants — and Pacifica stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She made sure to be quiet, but she needed a minute. More gunshots could be heard through the walls, as well as shouting and whizzing, crackling magic.

But those sounds fell away as Spirit Mabel slammed Pacifica with the loudest attack yet.

Suddenly Pacifica was seized in what felt like a panic attack. She fell to her knees as she struggled to get her breath. Destructive thoughts and devastating emotions sped through her mind and body. The tingly feeling of the hexal magic was nearly washed away by waves of chills. It felt as if a terrible force were pressing in on her from all sides.

And Mabel screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed. “ _You can’t get to me! You’ll never stop me! You’re a worthless nobody, and everyone knows it! I’ve already won! No dagger, no Bill, no fancy magic will ever change that, because you — are — a — failure!_ ”

“ **Pacifica**.” Bill’s voice was weak, but Pacifica could hear it. With a gasp of breath, she clung to that voice with all the willpower she had left. “ **Pacifica, you have to do this. You can make her stop. Just go through the wall. End this.** ”

How? I can’t even move. Andrew is probably after me, probably almost here. Mabel is right. I’m a failure.

“ **No,** ” Bill said firmly. “ **You won’t be a failure if you do as I say. Get up, Pacifica.** ”

So she struggled to her feet. Each breath was a sob, each movement an effort.

“ **Take a deep breath. Gather your strength. Then go.** ”

Taking a deep breath was easier said than done when every screech from Mabel made Pacifica hyperventilate. But she forced her lungs to cooperate. Almost there. _We’re almost there!_

Pacifica leapt through the wall.

Someone gave a startled yell, though Pacifica barely heard it over Spirit Mabel’s screams. More hands grabbed for her, but they passed right through her. Pacifica ran through the people, looking for Mabel.

There she was. Pressed up against Dipper, using him as a shield. Anger flared in Pacifica’s chest: You’ll never use him for your evil purposes again, Mabel. I _will_ free him from you.

She snatched Mabel’s wrist, pulled her away from Dipper. Her enhanced strength allowed her to do this with ease. Mabel cried out as she stumbled away. Pacifica kept an iron grip on her wrist; Mabel became intangible to anyone else.

Then they were off. Pacifica yanked Mabel behind her, feeling almost giddy. Mabel screamed — though not as loud as her spirit — and tried in vain to pull away from Pacifica. Through one wall — across the lab — then they were outside again.

The hexal magic on Pacifica’s skin roared with anticipation and encouragement. Do it! the magic urged her. Stab her! Get your revenge!

There was a lot of sound around her — Spirit Mabel screaming, physical Mabel screaming, supernatural creatures yelling as they saw Pacifica reappear, doors slamming as the people inside the Museum ran after her — but Pacifica could only hear Spirit Mabel. She could only hear the cursed sound of the spirit who had haunted her for weeks.

Pacifica let out her own scream. No more. No more! She twisted Mabel’s wrist so that the girl’s palm was facing upward. She raised the dagger.

Then she plunged it into Mabel’s palm.

The scream that wrenched from Mabel’s lips was almost louder than that from Spirit Mabel. “ _No!_ ” screeched the spirit. “ _No!_ ”

“Yes!” Pacifica shouted back. She pulled the dagger out of Mabel’s hand, pushed Mabel into the snow, and raised the dagger triumphantly over her head.

Spirit Mabel gave one last scream that reverberated in Pacifica’s bones. But that was it.

The spirit dissipated into the air.

Pacifica stood there, the dagger still held over her head, taking huge breaths in the sudden absence of sound. Well, there was still sound — plenty of it, coming from all around her — but there was no more Spirit Mabel. No more ethereal torture.

Tears came to Pacifica’s eyes. She wanted to sink to the ground and weep with relief.

“ **Don’t celebrate yet** ,” Bill’s voice said. “ **You have to get out of here. Now!** ”

It was hard to focus with the joy Pacifica felt, but she did as Bill said, running back to the barrier. She was going to slip through, pass intangibly through whoever tried to grab her, jump on a snowmobile with a servant, and drive away.

She could hardly believe what was happening. She could hardly believe what she’d just done. It was that easy. That simple. _And she’d done it_. She couldn’t stop a laugh from bubbling from her throat as she ran, her feet still passing through the snow as if it weren’t even there.

But then, strangely enough, she started to feel the snow. She suddenly found herself knee-deep in it, taking huge steps just to move forward. What had happened? Why was she—?

Her hexal magic gave out. Pacifica’s strength left her. She collapsed into the snow.

“ **No!** ” Bill cried. “Pacifica, you **have to get up!** ”

But she couldn’t. She really couldn’t this time. Her hex had done what it was designed to do: It had allowed Pacifica to hurt Mabel. Then it had given out, overwhelmed by the four separate spells that had been pushed into it. Pacifica was left with no magic and, after expending everything she had to get to Mabel, no strength.

Someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her upright. With one arm, a burly man pinned Pacifica against him; with the other, he pried the dagger out of her hand. He flung it down into the snow.

Gideon Northwest appeared and picked it up. “What have you done?” he said to Pacifica. His voice was absolutely horrified. “ _What have you done?_ ”

“I stopped her,” Pacifica replied, though it was hard to get air with how tightly the man was holding her. “I freed everyone from her!”

“Miss Pleasure!” called one of the servants from beyond the barrier. “Let go of her!” She leveled a gun at the man holding Pacifica.

Everybody flinched as the gun went off. Yet it didn’t make it past the barrier. It instantly disintegrated into a fine white powder that fell like snow.

A minotaur tackled the servant before she could try shooting again. Inside the barrier, Gideon was the first to recover from the shock of the gunshot. “Where’s Andrew?” he shouted to the supernatural creatures. “Somebody get Andrew!”

“He’s hurt,” a minotaur called back. “He’s back home.”

“Well, somebody get him! Or Stanford! Somebody get help!”

But no help would arrive. Not before the dagger’s magic took hold. Mabel had been screaming in pain behind Pacifica, but now her breath cut off in a gasp. Gideon whirled around, and the man holding Pacifica turned halfway, taking Pacifica with him.

Mabel was kneeling in the snow, and Dipper was beside her. He was babbling — “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re going to be okay, we’ll get you help” — but Mabel wasn’t responding. Her breath came in quick gasps as she stared at her bloody hand.

It was glowing blue. Dark blue, just like the pine tree on Mabel’s shirt.

Dipper noticed it. “Mabel? What—?”

The blue glow grew larger and larger, like a soap bubble forming on a child’s wand. Dipper held onto Mabel, but he was pushed away by the magic. “Dipper!” Mabel cried. “Dipper, help!”

“Mabel!” Dipper tried to return to her side, but the blue glow was more than just a glow. It was some kind of physical force, pushing Dipper farther and farther from Mabel as it grew larger and larger.

“Help!” Mabel called over and over. “Help!”

People surrounded her, trying to get to her — Dipper, Gideon, Robbie, Melody — but no one could reach her. She rose up from the ground, surrounded by the blue glow. Her cries were soon muffled by the magic that had her captive.

Her eyes met Pacifica’s. Her expression was one of terror.

Then she disappeared.

Just like that, Mabel and the blue glow disappeared. Another laugh burst from Pacifica. Then another. She found herself laughing hysterically, unable to catch her breath, still held back by the burly man. Pure relief filled her veins until she thought she might burst.

She was _free_.

“ _Mabel!_ ” Dipper shouted. “ _Mabel, come back!_ ”

Then he turned on Pacifica. The hatred in his eyes was so strong that it vaporized much of her relief.

“What did you do to my sister?!” he shouted at Pacifica. “Bring her back!”

Then the ground started to shake, and Dipper fell to his knees.

The people outside the barrier — the audience that Pacifica had nearly forgotten about — gave cries of alarm. “Get down!” yelled someone nearby; the burly man dropped to the ground, nearly crushing Pacifica beneath him. The ground rattled them back and forth.

“The trees!” someone called. “Quick, get us through the trees!”

The earthquake continued. Pacifica heard horrible crunching sounds like someone grinding asphalt under a giant shoe.

“They’re **leaving** ,” Bill’s voice said. “The supernatural creatures are **running away**. **Ha! You did it, Crescent Moon! The township is ready to go!** ” He sounded more joyful than Pacifica had ever heard him. “ **Now** ,” he said, “see if you can **get out from under** Danny.”

But she couldn’t. The man, Danny, was too strong; there was no way she’d escape from him. She tried, but struggling against him during an earthquake only made her feel dizzy.

The earth rumbled and shook; Danny didn’t move, so Pacifica couldn’t either. Instead she stared at the snow in front of her face (thank goodness for her snow gear) until a flash of yellow light made her look up.

There was Bill. It was the first time in hours that he’d visually appeared to Pacifica. His yellow light radiated with delight and triumph as he gazed down on her. “ **Thank you, Pacifica,** ” he said. His voice cut through the sounds of the earthquake. “ **Thank you. I’m finally on my way home.** ”

Pacifica tried to smile up at him, but her neck was at an awkward angle and she only managed a grimace.

“The **earthquake** ,” Bill continued, “should be over **soon**. It’s a **sign** that the township is **waking up**. It is **ready to go**. **Mabel** will be a **great resource**.”

A thrill ran through Pacifica. Her greatest enemy had become a means for Bill’s end. _And_ she would never come near Pacifica again. It was the best outcome possible.

“I need to **go now** ,” Bill said. “The township **won’t move** unless I’m in a human body, **unfortunately**. I’ll be up in the **Northwest Manor** , using **Lincoln’s** body, until we **get to my dimension**.”

And I’ll be here? Pacifica asked silently.

“Yes, **for now**. I’ll have to **plan** how to get the **dagger** back, but I’ll worry about that **later**. I’m **sorry** , but you’ll have to **wait here** until we can **rescue** you, and that might **be a while**.”

Pacifica found that she didn’t mind. Maybe she’d be stuck at the Museum, but Mabel wouldn’t be there! And she could start from the inside on healing Dipper and Gideon from Mabel’s abusive lies.

“That’s a **good way to think about it** ,” Bill said. “I won’t be able to **visit** you, **sadly** , since I’ll have to **stay in Lincoln’s body**.”

Why? Pacifica thought.

“Oh, some **annoyance** that the **ancients** built into my prison,” Bill said airily. “Designed to **make things harder** for me. If I leave the body, the township starts going **backwards** , which **wastes** my Symbols. I didn’t actually know this — **no one** did — until the township formed, and then the information **magically** appeared to me. Interesting, isn’t it? The ancients were **so careful** to make sure I wouldn’t know about this little **snag** until the **last minute**. Little did **they** know that I’d make my deal with **Lincoln**.”

“I see,” Pacifica said out loud. She said it quietly, and her voice was strained since she was still halfway under Danny, but she still wanted to say it out loud. “Thank you, Lord Cipher. Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Nor **I** without **you** ,” Bill replied. “ **You deserve my thanks as well. Goodbye for now, Crescent Moon**.”

“Goodbye,” Pacifica said.

And Bill faded away.

After that, it wasn’t long before the earthquake ended. Danny got to his feet, pulling Pacifica up with him. “Is everyone okay?” called another voice. Pacifica looked over to see Gregory Corduroy.

“No,” Dipper snapped. “Mabel’s not!” Pacifica couldn’t see him from this angle, but she saw Melody walk out of view, probably to go over to him. From the angle of people’s heads as they watched, Pacifica guessed that Melody and Dipper were going back to the Museum.

She’d probably need to give Dipper a little time. He was badly tangled in Mabel’s deceptions. But Pacifica didn’t mind waiting, especially because Mabel wasn’t here to deceive him anymore.

“Let’s get inside,” said Gideon. “Take Pacifica. Keep her away from Dipper.” His eyes flicked over to the barrier, where Pacifica noticed some servants still standing outside the barrier.

“Are you going to go talk to them?” Greg asked softly.

Gideon scowled. “I have nothing to say to them,” he said, raising his voice so the servants could hear him clearly. “But they’re not getting this back.” He was still holding the dagger. He tightened his grip on it, then walked away.

With Gideon, Dipper, and Melody gone, Pacifica could only see the three Corduroys and Wendy. And of course Danny, whose grip on her was far too tight. Robbie stared at Pacifica with a haunted look in his eyes. “What did you do to her?” he asked.

A genuine smile spread across Pacifica’s face. “I got rid of her,” she said. “We’re all free of her.”

Robbie’s face opened in surprise, then closed in rage. But Janice touched his arm, and the Corduroys and Wendy turned and went back into the house.

Danny followed, pushing Pacifica in front of him. He was hardly gentle, but Pacifica didn’t even notice. She didn’t even mind. She was too overjoyed to care what happened now. Even if she was physically captive, she was forever free from Mabel.

Nobody could keep her down now.


	15. Chapter 15

Candy Chiu was bored. Her mother had insisted that she stay in the house today, but there was nothing to do here. For one, there was no internet or TV cable — it had been down for a while, even before all this craziness with the barrier around town and the sun jumping through the sky. There also weren’t many books in the house that Candy could read; Mom had a fair amount of books in Mandarin, but Candy wasn’t good with Mandarin, and they didn’t have many books in English. So Candy reread her small collection of comic books, even though she was more focused on how she wanted to go outside than she was on the comics.

And Mom was acting weird, too. All jumpy and nervous. Every time Candy asked what was wrong, Mom would just smile and shake her head and go back to looking worried. Candy couldn’t tell if she was jittery because she was happy or because she was anxious. Maybe both. It was strange behavior for Yingtai, and Candy didn’t like it.

That afternoon, Candy was hanging upside-down on the couch, trying to read a comic book through the blood rushing to her head, when the doorbell rang. She paused, glancing around her comic book at the door. Who could _that_ be? Nobody came out of their houses these days, not since the gravitational anomalies. Candy hadn’t seen her best friend Greyson in days.

Usually, Candy would just call her mom to the door, but she wanted to see who was there. It would be something to break up the monotony of today, at least. So she flipped herself upright and went to the door.

“Candy, wait,” Mom called from behind her.

Candy stopped just in front of the door. “You expecting anybody?”

Mom came up right beside Candy, took a deep breath, then nodded to the doorknob. “Open it.” She looked more nervous than she had all day.

Candy shot her mom a strange look. Then she pulled open the door.

And came face to face with a monster.

Head like a bull, with big curved horns. Torso and arms like a human. Legs like a bull, with a knee-length skirt around the waist. This was a minotaur, the bull monsters Candy had read about in her comics. Most people would jump back when suddenly faced with a large bull man, but not Candy. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Woah,” she said.

“Jiā lēi,” Mom said, her voice full of relief. “Did it work?”

“It worked,” the minotaur said. His voice was a normal baritone, not like a monster at all. His eyes flickered to Mom, but they mostly stayed on Candy. She stayed still, trying to figure out what was going on. Who was this guy? Did Mom _know_ him?

“You’re here to stay, then?” Mom said. She sounded like she was about to cry.

“Yes,” the minotaur said, and he seemed just as emotional.

Mom gestured for him to come in. Candy stepped back as the minotaur squeezed his large body through the door. Looking at him from farther away, Candy frowned. Wait. Something about this guy. . . Something about him was familiar. But she couldn’t remember ever seeing him in her life. Maybe he just reminded her of a character from a comic book?

As soon as the minotaur was safely inside the house, he embraced Candy’s mom. Yingtai wept in his arms, and he held her close.

Candy just stared at them. This seemed. . . _really_ familiar. What was going on?

The embrace didn’t last for long. They pulled away and turned to Candy. “Mei Xing,” the minotaur said, using Candy’s real name. He knelt down in front of her so he could be at about her height.

“Who are you?” Candy asked.

He stared back. There were no tears in his eyes — could bulls cry? — but he still seemed just as emotional as Mom, who now had tears streaming down her face. “My name is Caleb,” he said slowly. “I’m. . .”

He hesitated, and in that moment a memory seemed to hit Candy in the side of the head. “Wait,” she said suddenly, putting up a hand. “Wait a second.”

There was a memory. She’d seen this minotaur before. But she still wasn’t sure when. . . .

“Candy,” Yingtai said, “this is—”

“Wait!” Candy said. She kept staring at the minotaur. At Caleb. “Wait, I’m trying to remember.”

Mom and Caleb exchanged confused looks. “Remember?” Mom said carefully.

“Something about this. . . this is—” Then she stopped. The memory came fully and clearly to her mind.

She used to be so curious about where her mom disappeared to some nights. So, one night, she had followed Yingtai. Through the woods, to a clearing, where a minotaur — _this_ minotaur — had been waiting. Candy had overheard them talk about her and how much the minotaur wanted to be with his daughter. With _Candy_.

Candy had gone back home, planning on confronting her mom about what she’d heard. But the next day, before Candy had said anything, Yingtai had taken her down to the Order for a memory wipe. Gideon Northwest had wiped the memory of Caleb along with Candy’s other forbidden memories. Neither Yingtai nor Caleb ever knew that Candy had seen them. Candy herself had forgotten about it.

But seeing Caleb again had triggered the memory. Now she remembered.

“Dad?” she said to Caleb.

Mom gave a sob. Caleb’s big black eyes widened. “You. . . you know me?”

“I. . .” This was so confusing. How did she forget? Was this new memory even real? Had she fallen asleep, and was now in a dream inspired by her comic books?

The more she looked at Caleb, the more she was sure. This wasn’t a dream. Her memory _was_ real, even if she didn’t know how she’d forgotten it. “Dad,” she said again. “You’re. . . you’re my dad.”

“Yes,” Mom choked out. Caleb didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Candy. Some instinct in her head told her to thrash, to get away from this strange non-human creature, but she was too shocked to listen to it. She let Caleb hug her, and soon enough she leaned into the hug.

This minotaur was her dad. How many times had Candy wished for a dad? How many times had she looked at Greyson, with his dad and mom, and wished for two parents? And now her dad was here. Mom had told Candy that she didn’t know who Candy’s dad was, but that had been a lie. She _had_ known. And he was Caleb.

Suddenly Candy was crying, too. She wasn’t even mad that Mom had lied to her — not yet, anyway. She just felt so happy, so safe, in the arms of her dad.

Mom knelt beside them and joined the hug. Mother, father, daughter all hugged each other, with the humans crying and the minotaur struggling to breathe normally. For the first time since she was a baby, Caleb held his daughter. And Candy let him hold her.

Until she suddenly pulled back.

“ _Wait_ ,” she said. Mom and Caleb blinked, flustered, as the hug suddenly broke apart. “Wait a second,” Candy said.

“What is it?” said Caleb.

“Does this mean I’m a _minotaur_?” Candy asked.

Mom and Caleb shared looks. “Well,” Caleb said, obviously stalling, “I’m not _really_ a minotaur. That’s just the human name for us, since we look so similar to the mythological monster.”

“Okay, great, but _am I a minotaur?_ Or, half minotaur? Why do I look human if you’re my dad?”

Another shared look. Then Mom got to her feet and gestured to the couch, and the three sat together, with Candy in the middle.

“We had to use magic,” Caleb said. “It could have killed your mom if she tried to deliver a non-human baby. So we found someone who used magic to make you basically human. But I’m still your dad; that didn’t change.” He put an arm around Candy’s shoulder and squeezed. “And, from what Yingtai’s told me, you have minotaur strength inside those human bones.”

Candy took a moment to process this. “So you’re telling me that I could’ve had awesome horns, but you used magic to get rid of them?”

As the words left her mouth, she couldn’t help but laugh. Then Caleb laughed, too, and Mom. The family sat there on the couch, laughing together, full of joy and relief and love.

Across town, Mabel was struck by the dagger that Caleb had stolen. The earthquake started, shaking the Chiu house. Candy and Caleb and Yingtai stayed on the couch, holding each other through the quake.

The earthquake didn’t scare Candy. She was with her mom and her dad. She felt totally safe.

~~~~~

The world around Andrew had become a nightmare, but he knew he wasn’t asleep.

This past week had been stressful, yes. But it was relatively stable. The dagger was safe in its protected cave. Stanley was safe in his prison, leaving Bill Cipher without a vessel. Andrew had successfully helped the Symbols create a sanctuary for themselves and gotten supplies to all the humans in Gravity Rises. Even his hut repairs were close to completion, though he hadn’t had much of a chance to personally help with that.

Then Pacifica Pleasure had shown up and capsized everything. In less than ten minutes, the dagger was gone, Xítway was dead, Stanley _and_ Stanford had been taken by Cipher’s servants, and Caleb had betrayed everyone. Andrew had only had a moment to stand there beside Enoch in shock, staring after Caleb as he drove away on a servant’s snowmobile, before someone came over and frantically told him about Xítway’s murder.

The news made an already-distressed Enoch almost hysterical. Andrew didn’t have time to comfort him, though; he’d sent the calf home and had gone to the prison hut to see Xítway for himself. Ásham, Xítway’s husband and Moira’s nephew, was there, as was Moira; she sat with Ásham as he held his wife’s body delicately in his arms.

Andrew left. Moira would do a better job comforting Ásham than he would, and every moment spent here put the Symbols in more danger. Andrew called together whatever minotaurs he could, then went to the hamadryads to ask them for passage to the Mystery Museum. The hamadryads got them to the Museum in an instant, and also brought other creatures to help them. The winter air was still and peaceful, but everyone knew that the dagger thieves would be there soon enough.

Andrew had gone into the Museum — he was the only non-human who could get past the barrier spell — and warned the Symbols of what was going on. The response was panicked but quick; the Symbols knew Pacifica would be after Mabel specifically, so they took measures to keep the girl safe. Once they were ready, Andrew went back outside to join the others in waiting for Pacifica.

Then she’d come. She’d jumped off the snowmobile and gone straight for the Museum, passing through people of different species as if they weren’t even there. And she’d slipped through the barrier spell. She used dark magic and got through the barrier spell with no problem.

Andrew had gone after her. But he’d been stopped by the humans who were with her. Someone shot him in the shoulder; he kept fighting, but someone dragged him out of the fight when it was clear he needed treatment. Andrew had resisted, but some minotaurs had gotten him to the trees, where the hamadryads had taken him to be healed.

So it was that Andrew couldn’t do anything more to stop Cipher’s servants. Nothing at all. The nymphs’ healing magic took a few hours to work fully on such a serious wound, and Andrew just had to sit in his hut with a chunk of metal in his shoulder, waiting for the magic to get rid of it, while the world ended around him.

The earthquakes started. They lasted a few solid minutes. Andrew’s calves were frightened: Enoch, who seemed shell-shocked from earlier, huddled in the corner; Naomi and Drew clung to each other; Timmy wailed in Andrew’s arms. A few minutes seems like a long time when the ground is shaking beneath you. Andrew hadn’t seen Moira since he’d come back; he hoped she was okay.

“Is it over?” Naomi whispered when the ground had stopped moving.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Enoch said. “Bill won. We’re doomed.”

Andrew wanted to say something comforting to his son, but his mouth refused to form the words. He held Timmy close to his chest as horrified sadness swept over him.

“I failed,” Enoch whispered.

“No,” Andrew said immediately. “You did everything right, Enoch. It’s not your fault Caleb—”

His breath cut off. He couldn’t talk about Caleb.

He got to his feet and handed Timmy to Enoch. “Stay in here,” he instructed his calves. “I’m going to go find your mama.”

He left his hut and headed for the prison hut, assuming Moira and Ásham would still be there. His shoulder throbbed as he went, but he hardly paid attention to it. His mind was racing with what to do next. Make sure Moira’s safe. Get to the Mystery Museum and make sure the Symbols are okay. See what happened to the dagger. Make plans to rescue Mabel, or whichever Symbol was struck.

Moira and Ásham were standing outside the prison hut when Andrew got there. A few other minotaurs were there, carrying Xítway. They would take her to the spirit cave to await burial.

Ásham watched with pained eyes as they carried his wife away.

“Let’s go,” Moira murmured. She looked up and saw Andrew. “Ásham is going to stay with us for a while.”

“You’re welcome in our hut,” Andrew told Ásham. “The two of you are safe after that earthquake?”

“Yes,” said Moira. “The earthquake. . . was it a sign? Was one of the Symbols taken?”

Andrew felt a pang of fear and guilt. “I think so,” he whispered. “I have to go see.”

Moira nodded and led Ásham away. Andrew turned to go to the trees and call for June.

At that moment, the sun went out.

There were cries of alarm and fear. The forest was blanketed in a sudden darkness. Andrew froze. “Moira?” he called.

“Right here,” Moira called from a few yards away. “What happened?”

“Another sign,” Andrew said. “We’re moving.” They were no longer under Earth’s sky.

The darkness was so complete that Andrew couldn’t see at all, which was unusual given his species’ night vision. There was no light whatsoever. Andrew stayed where he was, not trusting himself to go anywhere. He hoped his calves were okay.

Light soon appeared from glowfly lanterns outside people’s huts. Glowflies usually only lit up at night, but this sudden darkness had tricked them into thinking it was time to glow. The light allowed Andrew to see a bit; he went back to his own hut with Moira and Ásham and took one of the glowfly lanterns there.

Then he went to the trees. “June,” he called. “Juniper. Someone, please, I need to get to the Mystery Museum.”

June appeared from a nearby tree. Her expression was scared. “Andrew, I can’t. . . I can’t go to the Museum.”

“What?”

“The earthquake. It formed fissures in the ground and damaged some of our trees.” She looked pale in the glowfly light. “I’m cut off from most of the forest.”

Andrew stared at her. “How am I supposed to get to the Symbols?”

“I. . . I don’t know.”

A heavy weight formed in Andrew’s chest. “I’ll. . . I’ll figure something out with the elders,” he said. “Th-thank you, June.”

She looked at him with sad, silent eyes. Then she disappeared into the trees.

Andrew’s head was reeling. He went to the elders and tried to talk to them, but they were handling the crisis that came from the earthquake and the sun’s disappearance, not to mention everything else that had happened today. They would have to talk to him later.

So he went home. The glowfly lanterns were lit, and in the soft light he could see the worried faces of his family. Ásham and Moira were setting up a place for Ásham to sleep; Andrew didn’t think the bull would want to go home anytime soon. Not without Xítway.

“I was with her just last night,” Ásham was saying to Moira. He spoke in a tone of disbelief, and Andrew could tell that he’d said this quite a few times already. “I woke up when Stanley started yelling. . . so I went to check on her. . . and she said they were okay. . . and after Stanley went back to sleep, she let me in, and we talked. . . . She was just fine last night. . . .”

At least he’d gotten to see her last night, Andrew thought. Ásham had been staying away from her since they’d taken Stanley captive; they didn’t want Bill to know Xítway had a husband in case he found a way to hurt him. The only time Xítway and Ásham had gotten to see each other was while Stanley slept. Then Ásham would go home to an empty hut and sleep alone.

But he’d at least known that Xítway was safe. And now she was gone.

Andrew went over to his calves, who were sitting silently to the side. Naomi and Drew, usually loud and playful, were quiet and still. “Cousin Xítway is dead?” Naomi asked her papa.

“Yes,” Andrew said, holding his daughter close. “She left her body, and now she’ll become a spirit.”

“And we’ll be able to see her?”

Andrew hesitated. “She might appear to some of us,” he said carefully. The spirits’ behavior after death wasn’t very predictable, but it was fairly standard for them to appear to their loved ones in dreams or visions. “But not for a few days at least.”

“The humans killed her,” Enoch whispered. He was still holding his baby brother. “Why would they kill her?”

“It was on Cipher’s orders,” Andrew said grimly.

Enoch was quiet. “Papa,” he said after a moment, “Uncle Caleb said he left a note in his hut for us. I want to go find it.”

“A note?” Drew said. “Why would Uncle Caleb write a note?”

Andrew didn’t respond for a moment. “Okay,” he finally said. “You and I will go, Enoch.”

“I wanna go!” said Drew. “I wanna visit Uncle Caleb!”

“Me too,” said Naomi.

“Uncle Caleb isn’t here right now,” Andrew said, trying not to let the pain show in his face. “He left something for Enoch and me. Will you stay here with Mama and Ásham? Ásham really needs company right now.”

Naomi and Drew weren’t happy about it, but they agreed. Enoch handed Timmy to Naomi. Andrew told Moira that he and Enoch were leaving; they took a glowfly lantern and went.

Andrew and Enoch were quiet as they walked. Enoch had told Andrew basically what had happened earlier, when Caleb had stolen the dagger. The betrayal was so raw, so painful, that Andrew didn’t want to talk about it now. His mind screamed at him not to go read the note; it would only bring more pain.

But Enoch was determined. When they got to Caleb’s hut, he almost went right in, but Andrew stopped him. “Wait,” he said, “it might be dangerous in there.”

Enoch looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe he wanted to lure us to his hut, and he left something in there to hurt us.”

Enoch stared at his papa in disbelief. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“Like he wouldn’t steal the dagger?” Andrew snapped.

Enoch flinched, and Andrew took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said to Enoch. “Before we go inside, I’m going to put protection spells around us, okay?”

Enoch looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. So Andrew cast the long, intensive spell that would create auras of protection around him and Enoch. As he worked, he cursed himself for not putting these spells around Xítway or the Symbols or the people who went to protect the Museum.

But he knew he wouldn’t have been able to protect them even if he’d tried. This particular spell took a lot of energy; it would be exhausting even to protect himself and Enoch for a few minutes.

Once the spells were up, Andrew and Enoch went into Caleb’s hut. It was silent and empty, like Caleb had expected to abandon it. The only thing out of place was the note on the table.

They went to the table and stared at the note. “I. . . I’m scared to read it,” Enoch said.

So was Andrew. But he didn’t say anything.

Enoch picked up the paper. Nothing happened. Nothing jumped out to hurt them. “I think you can stop the protection spells, Papa,” Enoch said.

Andrew did so with a relieved breath. Between the protection spells and the pain of Caleb’s betrayal, he didn’t know if he had the energy to read this note.

“Let’s sit down and read it together,” Andrew said.

They sat at the table. Enoch wordlessly handed Andrew the note, and Andrew opened it so they could both see. They leaned against each other and started reading.

The note told a story of love and heartache. It spoke of Yingtai, of Mei Xing, of Cipher promising Caleb that he could be with his family if he helped the demon escape his prison. Caleb laid out his feelings in the note: his disbelief in Andrew’s cause in guarding the prison, his anger and sadness at being kept away from his family, his secret loyalty to Cipher. It was shocking and painful and surreal. Caleb had been hiding all of this for _thirteen years_.

Andrew could hardly breathe. Neither could Enoch. They leaned on each other for strength, neither able to believe what they’d just learned.

“I’m going to be with my wife and my daughter,” the note read at the end. “I hope I can come back to you someday, and bring them with me. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope you can accept them. They’re your family, too.”

When they’d both finished reading, Andrew folded up the note and put it back on the table. Father and son were quiet.

“Did you know?” Enoch finally asked.

“I had no idea,” Andrew said.

That was all they could say. They sat there in silence for a long, long time.

Finally, Andrew got to his feet. He picked up the note. He wanted to tear it up, to crumple it in his hands, to burn it. But he could only hold it limply in his hand.

“Let’s go home,” he said to Enoch.

“What will we tell the others?”

Andrew didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about that. “Let’s just go,” he said.

They left Caleb’s hut. Outside, stars had appeared in the dark sky: thousands of white speckles sprayed across the heavens. But they weren’t the stars that were visible from Earth. They were the stars of another dimension. The township was under another sky now. And it would move through hundreds, maybe thousands of skies before it arrived at Cipher’s dimension.

But they could still stop it. They could find a way to rescue Mabel from the township’s magic. Right? They could rescue her, and they could figure out a way to form the Cipher Wheel, and they could get back home.

Yet it didn’t seem very likely.

Andrew and Enoch went back home. Andrew wanted to sleep, although he knew it was still only the afternoon. But he was exhausted, and his shoulder still hurt, and he didn’t want to think about anything for a while.

“Someone came by,” Moira said. “The elders are ready to see you now.”

Andrew wordlessly handed her the note. “What’s this?” she asked.

“Caleb’s betrayal,” Andrew said quietly.

Moira looked confused. Andrew left her to read the note for herself. He took Enoch and went to the elders, where he hoped he would find some sort of solution to this mess. Some kind of peace in this chaos.

But he knew it was a vain hope. He had failed to protect the dagger, and Cipher had taken it. The demon was officially on his way to freedom. Someone was dead, and someone else was getting her life drained away slowly by the township’s magic. And Andrew’s own brother had been the one to make it possible.

Andrew didn’t think he would ever feel peace again.

~~~~~

Above the forest, under the dome that cut the township off from the rest of the multiverse, there was magic at work. In a swirl of light, a large blue sphere appeared in the air. It gave off a quiet glow, like a small, dim sun to replace the one that had been left behind. It was dark blue, with cracks spidering along its surface.

The cracks formed the shape of a pine tree.

The sphere fueled the township. The township rolled through the dimensions.

Bill Cipher’s escape was underway.

**END OF EPISODE THREE**


End file.
